APH: British Raj, My Rani
by Ehren Hatten
Summary: Sir Arthur Kirkland is a mess. He's stressed, overworked and in desperate need of an escape, so he escapes to his memories of when India was with him while he tries to help the police find the serial killer that is being called Jack the Ripper. ch 11 up.
1. Chapter One

_A/N: Because Arthur needs love. Seriously. XD And yes, while playing around with him I made him be knighted, which makes sense to me. It was a spur of the moment thing that I slapped in when Arthur was introducing himself formally. *shrug* And yeah, I was watching From Hell with Amanda. Eh.. heh… heh heh…. Heh… Oh and a goodly part of Aashiyana and Arthur is taken from a role play with my good friend Alexiel. Aashiyana Singh/India is Alexiel's creation, by the way, just like Mia/California._

_The title was also thought up by Alexiel. I'm keeping it for now until a better name comes along. _

**British Raj, My Rani**

_Chapter One_

Sir Arthur Kirkland, the embodiment of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, walked along the dark, damp street, his hat on his head, his coat wet from the light rain that London was having, his cane helping to keep him upright when he slipped slightly on the slick street. He was a very handsome young man, very gentlemanly looking with his crisp, clean shirt, his waistcoat always kept nice and clean, his tie never out of place, his usually very wild blonde hair slicked back; he was the epitome in appearance of a proper English gentleman.

Underneath that gentlemanly appearance, however, laid the memories and the deeds and the heart of a thief and a pirate. A child who played and danced with fairies and unicorns, who stole fruits from vendors when they weren't looking and hid up in trees to shoot arrows at strangers to watch and laugh as they ran away in fright lay inside him. A young man who, when he first laid eyes on his new queen, with her fair skin and wild red hair and her determination to rule, immediately let her take his heart as her own even if she did not return the affection he held for her. A young man who gladly sailed out and was the scourge of every single Spanish sailor he came across.

Did he see unicorns anymore? Could he play with them as he once did? He hardly ever saw them anymore unless he went to the countryside where the forests were still plentiful. His beloved fairies never left him and he reserved for them a tree in his own back yard so they could live peacefully without worry of being mistaken for bugs or pests. The unicorns, however, troubled him the most, now more than ever.

Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, was keeping him very busy. She kept him from leaving with special men in her employment that would keep him from boarding a ship and leaving to the open sea, or better yet India. He barely got any sleep, he sometimes forgot to eat properly; he was a mess. Outside he was the very epitome of the English gentleman, but inside he was caged and kept silent. Orders were orders and he did not have yet permission to go back to India to see the embodiment of India herself, Aashiyana Singh. So, he kept himself silent and caged, kept his mind elsewhere and did other things to keep himself awake when he was strapped for time on things. He dulled his senses when they got in the way.

He stepped into his house and was greeted by his butler, Bernard, an older man who had once served in the royal military in India. "Sir," said Bernard as he took Arthur's hat and coat and cane, "Dinner is ready. Would you prefer it if I brought it up to your room for you or would you like to eat in the dining room?"

"I'll eat later," said Arthur, "I'm not hungry at the moment." Indeed, his usually intense, unnaturally brightly colored green eyes looked dull in comparison to how they appeared normally. Arthur smiled tiredly at Bernard when Bernard gave him one of his rather infamous stern expressions. "Then, I'll take it in my room," said Arthur.

"Very well, sir," said Bernard, then he walked off and put Arthur's coat and hat and cane away. Arthur made his way up the stairs and went straight to his room. He pulled his jacket off and laid it on the trunk at the foot of his four poster bed as well as his tie. He pulled out of the pocket of his jacket a bottle of laudanum and small canister of snuff. There was a knock on the door and he moved toward it, opening it up.

"Thank you, Olivia," he said.

"Ah—begging your pardon sir, but my name is Anne," said the maid as she held up the tray for him. Anne? Wasn't there an Olivia that worked there? Looking at her he could see she wasn't the auburn haired young woman that had worked for him before. It hadn't been that long ago, really, but to him it seemed so strange and far away.

"Where is Olivia?" he asked her.

Anne looked puzzled. That was because, as realization dawned in Arthur's mind, he had seen little, shy Olivia disappear from his hire to become the wife of a very nice young American man who took her away from England to Boston, Massachusetts no less than five years ago. Was he that muddled in his head now? Was he that old inside his own mind? His age was tied to the age of the nation; he grew older as the nation grew older. However, as the decades went by, the centuries, Arthur supposed he sort of just lost track of most of the time since it just flew by in his mind.

"Thank you, Anne," said Arthur and took the tray from her and walked away, closing the door behind him in front of her. He set the tray on the small table in front of the large windows where his little bottle of laudanum and his canister of snuff lay. He sat down and nibbled on some of the food that was prepared on the plate before him, looking out the window at the fairy tree and watched as the little fairies buzzed about, glittering and shimmering through the branches of the tree. It brought a smile to his face.

His mind drifted to Her Majesty that afternoon, to the news that morning that there was a madman on the loose that she wanted found and put away. "As unfortunate as these women are, the more unfortunate possibility is that this madman should begin killing other women of higher standing," said Victoria, her usually hard eyes even harder as she looked to Arthur.

"Yes, Your Majesty, but what should I do? I am not a detective, an inspector or even a policeman," said Arthur.

"You have been in our royal military since you have been able to hold a sword have you not, Sir Arthur?" asked Victoria.

"Yes."

"Then, you have more than enough experience in making sure that the detectives and police capture this animal and bring him to justice," said she, "And do make certain you do something about your appearance, Sir Arthur. You look dreadful."

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty," said Arthur.

"You have."

"I haven't been able to sleep properly since you've been keeping me so very busy, Your Majesty," said Arthur. Absently he scratched at his knee, picking at the cloth with his nail. "If I could be allowed a sort of vacation from England a short while I think I could be better to task."

"No," said Victoria as she eyed him with those cold, unfeeling eyes of hers, the eyes of a hard woman though she was a very good queen, "We still need you here, Sir Arthur. If you need a vacation then you should try taking one to the countryside instead, however, after you capture this villain."

"Actually, I was hoping for India," said Arthur.

"We know." Victoria didn't even flinch when she spoke, she didn't show the slightest bit of sympathy. She was always very authoritative. Arthur wouldn't have minded so much if he could at least get a break from it to India where he knew he would be able to unwind a little easier than staying on the island.

With that meeting over with Arthur had then made his way to check in to see what had come up in the investigation so far. The prostitutes that had been murdered had organs taken from them both, their throats slit, their bodies sliced up in very disturbing ways. What made them so disturbing was not the blood and gore of it, but the precision with which it had been done. At first the inspectors thought perhaps it was just one of the common criminals in White Chapel, but then they realized that the manner was far too deliberate and precise to be just a common murderer. And now there were two women who were dead in the same manner.

So, Arthur sat beside the window and looked out at the fairy tree, nibbling just a little until he pulled out a fresh bottle of Absinthe and a glass. He put the silver strainer and sugar cube on top of the glass and poured the Absinthe in over it. He drank the strange green liquid, the lamp beside him making the strange forms appear inside the glass, and continued to stare out the window. He sniffed some of the snuff and wiped his nose off before drinking more from the glass and let the chemicals take effect on him.

_

* * *

Aashiyana sat at her vanity, braiding her hair over her shoulder with fingers that were covered in that strange brown ink the women wore almost constantly in the most beautiful designs. She was the epitome of exotic beauty. Her dark eyes lined in khol, her skin smooth and soft and warm, her movements always graceful and her stance always regal. She was a queen in her mind and she would always remain so. _

_ Arthur stared at her, dressed in far more constricting clothing than Aashiyana ever wore that stifled him even though he was accustomed to them. They stifled him in the moist heat of the jungle. "I said that you are to leave for London, Aashiyana," said Arthur in a far sterner tone than he usually used when speaking to her. _

_ "I'm not going," said Aashiyana. _

_ "Your Empress is expecting you," said Arthur, clenching his fists at his sides._

_ "If she is expecting to see me then she is very welcome to come here herself," said Aashiyana._

_ "I don't think you quite know your own position, India," said Arthur, glaring at her, "You don't have that authority. Her Majesty does and that means I do."_

_ Finally, Aashiyana turned and looked slowly toward Arthur with those black eyes of hers. "I do know my own position, Britain. To you I am a savage that doesn't know what's best for her. To the Empress I am a savage and little better can come of me. So, as a savage, I can only say that she must come and see me for I might become more of a savage in her own court."_

_ Arthur's cheeks were flushed from both anger and the heat, the heat getting more to his head than her words. "I would prefer to do this civilly than to drag you out to the fucking boat kicking and screaming," he snapped._

_ Aashiyana, already quite used to his temper, eyed him calmly and simply stood, looking to him with her chin held up like a queen. "All right, then let us negotiate civilly."_

_ "All right," said Arthur, fingering his collar and tie, "You have to come with me all the way to England because the queen, your Empress, is quite busy and can not come over here on the whim of her colony."_

_ "And I am busy over here. Should she not come over here and speak with my Maharajas directly?" said Aashiyana, still quite calm._

_ "They are her subjects. She does not come to their call, they come to hers," said Arthur._

_ Aashiyana sat down again at her vanity, turning away from Arthur so that all he saw was her back. "Then, she'll have to wait," said Aashiyana, her voice finally losing its calm. Arthur clenched his teeth and walked right over to her, grabbing her arm closest to him and pulling her up only to be met with a curved dagger to his throat from the other hand. His bright, unnaturally colored green eyes opened wide at the feel of the sharp metal against his skin, then frowned at her, determined not to be out done by British Raj. "You're trembling," she said. _

_ "Would you so easily spill my blood?" asked Arthur in a calm tone._

_ "No," said Aashiyana, her voice becoming quieter, softer to his ears as she gazed at him though her tone was still quite hard, "My very last wish is to harm you, but I will not be made to do something I have not consented to, Britain."_

_ "I can do nothing but obey my queen," said Arthur. He moved forward against the blade, looking her in her black eyes, loosening his hold on her arm as he lifted his other hand to her cheek and stroked the warm, smooth skin with his calloused fingers. The blade bit into his skin, his hot blood oozing very slowly from the flesh wound onto his collar, but he hardly cared. _

_ Aashiyana's gaze grew gentler, warmer as she looked at him, her voice gentler in tone. "Your fever is high," she said, but then she stopped when he moved a bit closer and looked to the side of his face slightly. "Don't move and let go of my arm," she said in a low voice. Arthur did as she asked. "Don't speak and don't look down. Keep still." He then heard the faint hiss of a cobra near him and he stiffened. "Keep still," she said again._

_ In a single flash of movement, Aashiyana dropped down and grabbed the snake behind the head and lifted it away from where it had slithered close to Arthur's leg. It whipped wildly, hissing and trying to get away from her, because it couldn't bite her. Arthur looked to it and found he had been holding his breath when he heard that hiss. Had he been bitten he would have had to endure a great deal of pain while his body healed the poison, or he would have died and would then have to wake up from that great pain. Either way, it wasn't a pleasant thought at all. As a nation he couldn't die unless the people lost their identity, unless the nation itself actively died. As he was in a human form with human blood and bones and flesh he could die, he could endure wounds that most would never recover from, but he would heal and he would wake up from that momentary human death. _

_ A bodyguard rushed in at once and Aashiyana gave him orders to take the snake in a basket with fresh goat's milk to the temple to be honored. When the bodyguard did as he was bid, Arthur finally started to breathe properly and put a handkerchief up to his neck, trembling slightly. "I'll send a request to Her Majesty that the meeting should be postponed until a better date can be set up," he said in a rushed tone as he moved toward the door. _

_ "One moment, Britain," said Aashiyana before he could get far. Arthur looked over his shoulder toward her, his skin very pale from the encounter. "Are you not going to purify yourself?"_

_ "What do you mean?" asked Arthur, frowning faintly._

_ "I must purify myself because I have defiled one of Sheshnag's children and kept it from its prey. You, by Shiva's blessed hand guiding my eyes and saving you from it, owe your thanks," said Aashiyana, looking to him as she put the curved blade away. He gave her a look that clearly stated he was in no mood to favor her religious beliefs in the slightest, so she said to him, "If anything, dear Britain, the cool waters will help your body cool and take you out of those thick clothes." _

_ Arthur looked away and dabbed at his neck with his handkerchief silently. "It was just a snake, Miss Singh; it was hardly divine providence that you saved me from it. It was just you."_

_ Aashiyana's eyes gentled as she looked to him and sighed. "If you keep this up you will surely suffer from heat stroke, Britain."_

_ "I am a British gentleman," said Arthur sharply, turning away from her, "I will weather through this heat as I have everything else!"_

_ "Arthur…"_

_ It was the first time she had ever used his name in the many years he had known her, learned her language, and learned of the culture there. It was the first time she had ever uttered his name at all in that time. Arthur's heart jumped in pace, pounding in his chest upon hearing it. Slowly, he looked over to her and saw her looking at him in genuine concern. "I must insist, Arthur," she said softly._

_ For one moment, he smiled faintly; the corners of his mouth crooking up ever so slightly as his green eyes lit up at his name being spoken by her. Then, he wavered and had to catch himself on her vanity to keep from falling from the dizziness in his head. His heart pounded harder in his chest as sweat dripped slowly over his cheeks. Aashiyana moved closer to him and caught him in her arms around his waist, helping to steady him. "Come," she said softly, "Follow me."_

_ Arthur could do nothing else but follow her instructions as he walked him to a great pool where there was a screen of sorts separating the pool in half. Actually, it was more or less a sheer cloth on a line that separated the two sides. Arthur guessed that one side was for men and the other for women to keep some modicum of modesty in place. There was a heavier screen where some attendants were standing and waiting for them to come near. Aashiyana spoke to them in hushed tones that Arthur didn't hear before moving away from him to behind one side of the heavy screen, leaving Arthur with the attendants moving closer to him in almost a menacing fashion._

_ "Wait—no, I need that—hold on! That's my—no, stop—don't touch there!" Arthur quickly tried shake off the attendants but they proved a very worthy set of adversaries. They stripped him bare and then into the pool all while closing their eyes and barely touching him. He stood in the water, stunned by what had transpired and looking down at the loincloth they had put him in. On the other side of the pool behind the sheer cloth he saw Aashiyana also in a loincloth with her back turned to him as she cupped the waters and let it fall on her body. _

_ Arthur's cheeks flared up as he gazed at her lovely back, the curtain barely hiding anything from view. Her long black hair was out of its usual braid and lay over her shoulder. Somewhere Arthur heard musicians playing, but he couldn't find them. Incense burned around the pool and water lilies scented the air around him until he felt as though perhaps he was being drugged. To keep his head about him he then busied himself with washing instead of looking to the very lovely back of Aashiyana. She began singing to the music being played and, as he looked over, he saw her turn slightly, the side of her breast showing as she turned just a little toward him. Arthur grunted softly and ducked under the water to attempt to cool his head._

_ Aashiyana chuckled softly and turned away from him as he popped his head back up from the water and pushed his hair back. "You're amused, I see," he said in annoyance._

_ "Your women are not allowed to show anything of themselves save for their hands and face, am I right? How troubled you must be right now to see such a savage being as I in such a savage state," said Aashiyana in a light tone, still chuckling at him._

_ "A gentleman keeps his shirt and trousers on in front of women," snapped Arthur, "You forgot that." Then, he ducked himself back under the water, groaning a bit while under it. Bubbles troubled the surface of the water above him, raising yet more laughter from Aashiyana. He glared at her slightly as he popped his head back out of the water. _

_ "Tell me," said Aashiyana, "What of your comfort? Must you keep your heavy clothes on even in the heat of my weather?" She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled faintly before turning away to hide the bitter look on her face as she spoke, a little of it breaking through. "As I am one of your colonies, this is your home. Can you not be free even in your own home?"_

_ Arthur stayed silent as he looked at a water lily near him, his thick blonde eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a moment, listening to her wetting her hair under the water and surfacing, he moved out of the pool and went to the changing area where the attendants had left his clothes. This time, however, his clothes were not present. Instead, what he saw in front of him were the light cotton men's fashions set out for him. He frowned deeply and looked around. "Where did my clothes go?" Then, realization dawned on him. Those were his clothes for the evening._

_ A small sound of movement in the water made him turn and see Aashiyana now on his side of the curtain with her elbows on the side of the pool, her chin resting in one hand, her breasts covered for the moment by the side of the pool. "Is something amiss?" she asked in a rather playful, amused tone. "I suppose our fashions are not as civil as yours."_

_ "Naught is amiss," he said quickly and started dressing, keeping his back to her and his focus away from the thought of those breasts being revealed to him. Aashiyana moved out of the pool and walked to her side of the screen; she pulled a white linen wrap around her and then sat down to braid her hair. Arthur, meanwhile, sat down near the edge of the pool, his knees up and his arms resting on top of them, a strange sort of nostalgic look in his far away gaze. "You know," he said softly, a tone not often heard from him, "I think I liked it most when I was on the ocean as a pirate, where I only had my ship and my crew to contend with and plenty of ships to plunder."_

_ Aashiyana eyed him from where she sat, silent as she tied her hair off. He didn't seem to notice, though, as he kept speaking with a bit of a smile on his face, lighting his features up. "Elizabeth," he said the name with reverence and affection, a lot of affection; more than any affection that she, India, had ever heard from him. His cheeks pinked a bit as his eyes grew brighter, the image of Elizabeth when she first took the throne with her long fiery red hair and fair features burned into his heart. She was the first woman he had fallen in love with and swore his heart to until the day she died. "She was a real row starter," said Arthur, chuckling._

_ Aashiyana's eyebrows shot up slightly. Arthur hardly took notice however, his smile turning to a mischievous grin. "She told Spain to kiss her lily white arse and then sent me and several other men to make life hell for them. We picked them off easily. It was fun making that idiot's life hell. Spain, I mean. Whenever we captured him we would ransom him off for yet more gold and it would just start all over again. It was brilliant!"_

_ Aashiyana smiled gently as she looked to Arthur. His face looked much younger than previously, he looked wilder, less the gentleman and more the pirate he professed to miss being with his hair standing up in every direction possible without order and that smile on his face that shown brilliantly as his eyes. Then, the smile faded as his eyes grew nostalgic and sad. "I think she only loved a few men," said he, his voice softer as though speaking to only himself, "She never married and never continued her line. I don't think she found anyone suitable enough to her that would allow her to still be in power. I wasn't the only one that was sad to see her die." _

_ And he was indeed very sad. He didn't cry, for time had passed long enough that the memory wasn't as sharp anymore. Instead, the ache of Elizabeth dying simply ached. No more did he see that good queen. No more did he hear her talk to him about strategy and giving the Spanish a good lesson. The only thing left now was the ache of her passing and the faint memories of her life as he saw her._

_ Aashiyana stood up from her place and walked to the curtain on one of the windows across the chamber. She pulled it back and looked out at the greenery before her. "It is the way of things. Humans are born and die so quickly and we feel it when they go. Still, there is always a chance you might see them again." She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled faintly. Arthur's cheeks flushed faintly as he gazed at her in no small amount of appreciation of her._

_ "Yes, I know," said Arthur. Aashiyana then walked back behind the separation screen and when she came out again she was wearing the under garments of her usual clothing; the petticoat—a long skirt that hung low on her hips—and her shirt which bared her stomach to him and left little to his imagination what laid beneath the pretty fabric. She also had in her hands a small basket. She walked closer to him and sat down next to him, pulling out a few bottles of what Arthur recognized as cleaning solutions for wounds and a cloth for cleaning and another for bandaging. "It's just a small cut," said Arthur, leaning away from her a little, "I've had worse."_

_ "The smallest cut can fall the greatest warrior," said Aashiyana, "Now hold still." Then, she applied the soaked cloth to his neck and watched as he winced slightly at the sting of it. "You see? You already have an infection started. It could keep you in bed for weeks. If you weren't what you are it could likely kill you."_

_ "It still might," Arthur grunted. Aashiyana simply chuckled a little at him and continued cleaning his cut. "At least you have me at your mercy, then."_

_ Aashiyana flicked those black eyes up to his and smirked faintly before looking back to his neck. "Given the look you held for me when I pressed my blade to your throat you likely wouldn't mind that." At that Arthur's cheeks turned brilliant red, though he dared not shove her away. She continued cleaning and then bandaged his neck with a cotton cloth wrapped around and tied off. Arthur fingered it thoughtfully as he watched her take the basket away. A strange woman she was, though not as strange as some he had seen. She outright defied him, outright defied Queen Victoria, put a blade to his neck and then, conversely, she kept him from being bitten by a cobra, let him bathe and alleviate himself from the stifling heat of his heavy clothes, and tended to a wound that he had caused on himself._

_ She held herself like a queen no matter what. Before then she was just as proud and now she was even more so. It made him feel small, almost insignificant in a lot of ways to be next to her and yet he knew he was not, would never be and to think so was foolish and unnecessary. She was beautiful beyond any of the other nations, beautiful and regal, exotic and enchanting. She was a fairy tale queen come to life. _

_ He looked to the window and saw it was far too dark outside to return to the ship he had come to India on. Likely he would have to at least stay the night until he could either convince Aashiyana to come with him or to write a letter and send it off to Queen Victoria about postponing the meeting and sending it off in his stead. _

_ "It is getting very dark outside, Britain. Come. I'll show you to your room this night," said Aashiyana when she came back from putting the basket away. Arthur nodded and stood up, following after her through the halls to a nice room with a nice bed in it, good furniture and the like. There was even a nice wash basin and mirror. The room, as Arthur noticed, was right next to Aashiyana's bedchamber. _

_ The fairy that usually traveled with Arthur flitted into his view and landed on his hand as he offered it to her. She fluttered down and sat on his hand with very little impression she was there at all, smiling brilliantly up at him. "And where have you been, hmm?" he asked the fairy._

_ "Flying," said the fairy, giggling._

_ "I take it she enjoyed looking around my home," said Aashiyana as she pulled the sheets away from the bed and checked the pitcher for water in it for the wash basin. _

_ "Yes, I expect so," said Arthur absently. Then, it dawned on him sharply what she had said. He pointed to the fairy and stared at Aashiyana in surprise. "You… you can see her? My fairy? You can see her?"_

_ Aashiyana looked over at him and then looked to his hand. "Fah-ree? Is that her name?"_

_ "More like a word to describe them, a label as it were. It's pronounced 'fair-ree'," said Arthur, "There are more of them in my backyard living in a great tree I've reserved for them, but… normally no one else can see them. Why can you?"_

_ "No one else?" asked Aashiyana as she lit a lamp in the room for Arthur._

_ "My name is Mustardseed," said the fairy, her little voice clear as a bell ringing._

_ Arthur directed his attention to the fairy, Mustardseed, finally, frowning. "You never told me your name before—wait a moment. That's from Midsummer Night's Dream, you little fink. You're the one that's been messing up my library aren't you!"_

_ Mustardseed immediately took flight and flitted away from Arthur to the top of an armoire. Aashiyana laughed softly as she watched Arthur try to get at the fairy by hopping up and trying to slap the top of the armoire, but he was a bit too short to do such a thing. Mustardseed finally fluttered away out of his reach and then landed on Aashiyana's head, nuzzling into her hair happily. Arthur huffed a bit at Mustardseed, but there was some amusement in his gaze. "Always so mischievous," he muttered._

_ "I can see that very plainly," said Aashiyana, chuckling softly as she tilted her head up toward the ceiling in an effort to see the little fairy. It didn't work, but that didn't matter. Mustardseed eventually left Aashiyana's head and went over to the armoire again out of Arthur's reach and sat there watching them. Arthur looked away finally from Aashiyana toward the bed as Aashiyana moved past him to the door. "I'll have a scribe write to your Queen Victoria," said she softly as she looked over her shoulder at him once more, a strange light in her eyes; a strange hint of green that Arthur had not seen before, "Good night, Britain." Then, she left him alone._

_ When she left, Arthur rubbed his face and groaned softly to himself, lying down on the bed proffered to him and buried his face into one of the pillows. The smell of her was clinging to every surface as though she were still there with him. The smell of curry and henna, of spices and hot, humid jungle both made it easy to dream and difficult to sleep. His mind, instead, replayed the image of her bathing; her brown skin shown to him, her breasts barely hidden by her arms as she turned slightly to look at him with no small measure of amusement. He could see the water rolling over her body as she splashed herself with it. He wanted to lick it from her skin, be the very water that clung to her taut nipples. _

_ He tossed on the bed uncomfortably. The heat pressed in on him. He opened his tunic and that didn't help. He pulled it off and tossed it away from him and that only made it feel marginally better. He groaned when he looked down at the state he had worked himself into and tried his best to calm himself down. Nothing worked, though. "God is against me, isn't he?" he muttered to no one, his arm over his eyes. _

_ He tried to empty his mind of everything that was that fairy queen known as Aashiyana, her unfurled hair, her warm, smooth skin pressed against his. He tried to not imagine what she would look like writhing under him as he thrust into her, the heat of her enveloping him, the taste of her kiss or the taste of her most intimate place. Defeated, Arthur sighed with no small measure of frustration and slid his hand slowly over his stomach to his trousers where he released his stiffening manhood and rubbed it and stroked it gingerly. He shivered at the contact. His heart beat quicker as he touched himself, his breathing growing heavier, his hips soon joining the effort. _

_ He tried to stifle the noises he made as much as he could. Faintly he was aware of eyes watching him, the feeling of Aashiyana closer to him than just through the wall. The magic in his blood sensed her presence like nothing else and it seemed to just make it that much more erotic for him at that moment. His muscles were accentuated by the darkness of the room, moving with every thrust of his hips. His chest rose and fell visibly with his labored breathing; his hand moved at varying speeds. After a moment, he didn't feel her so near anymore, but it didn't matter. He pulled a pillow over his face and strangled the noises he made. Then, all at once, his muscles twitched and his mind grew white as he spurted his hot seed onto his stomach. _

_ He lay in bed, now disgusted with himself for succumbing to his own base desires. He felt dirty and loathed himself then more than he had in a long while. What sort of animal played with himself when the woman that inadvertently created his state was just through the wall? Eventually he got up and cleaned himself off before straightening his trousers and heading back to bed. At least with that out of the way he might be able to actually sleep. It was then that he heard a shuffling sound through the wall and the sound of something falling to the floor. Arthur ran from the room and into Aashiyana's room quickly, keeping to the door way to keep from intruding._

_ Aashiyana was getting up onto the windowsill to sit, the room too dark to see her properly. "India? Are you all right?" he asked softly._

_ Her voice came out strangled, as though she were having trouble breathing. "Y-yes, I am… I am fine," she said._

_ Arthur frowned. "May I come in?"_

_ "I am hardly decent," said Aashiyana, her tone more strangled than before. He recognized the sound now and that made it even more urgent for him to walk in. He made his way over to her quickly. In that time she coughed violently, shaking against the window frame. He had to put his hands on her to keep her from falling off the windowsill. When she brought her hand away it was coated in blood. It was beyond anything Arthur had ever seen from any other nation during wartime or when various plagues had scoured the lands. France had suffered great losses when he found Arthur, but even then he did not cough up so much blood as Aashiyana did right then. _

_ Arthur's face went pale as he reached down and picked her up into his arms. He placed her on her bed and got a better look at her. Her eyes were hazy, barely registering him as they looked at him. She was dizzy, that much was certain, but there was a strange ring of bright, unnaturally colored green around her pupil. It was faint, still forming, but it was there and it contrasted greatly with the black of her eyes. The front of her white bed clothes were stained red right then. It was phenomenal that she had kept this in for so long, kept him from knowing what was wrong with her. She was losing millions. _

_ Her breathing became worse, her skin heating up feverishly. The color drained quickly from her skin far too quickly. "Aashiyana," he said softly, "You should have said something."_

_ "Now," she said, swallowing hard, "Now you see why I can't—why I can't leave this place. I did not want you to see… how pitiful I am right now."_

_ Arthur stood then and walked into his room. He poured fresh water into the wash basin and grabbed his tunic and walked back quickly to Aashiyana's room. He knelt down next to her and wet his tunic; he placed it around her neck and over her forehead to alleviate the heat from her body. It barely helped, though. She began to choke on the blood coming up, so she moved to her side and let yet more blood come out of her. He moved the water and himself away from it. He took the wetted tunic and kept wetting it and wiping at her gently as he sat on the bed and tried to comfort her as best as he could. _

_ "How… how easily conquered I am," she gasped before she vomited yet more blood. _

_ "I'll go back to England, Aashiyana," said Arthur in a hushed tone, "I'll go in your stead." _

_ Aashiyana laid still for a long enough time that Arthur felt that perhaps her spasms were over with for the time being. He sat up against the pillows and pulled her up against his body so that she sat up. Then, he continued to gently wipe her down with his wet and now bloodied tunic; wrapping it around her neck carefully to help alleviate the fever in her body. Aashiyana stayed silent for a long moment, her eyes closed. Arthur hummed softly to her to help her calm down. When she spoke again, her voice was a little easier, a little freer from the strangulation of the blood coming up. "I'm sorry that I ruined your time before," said she._

_ Arthur frowned at her faintly in confusion. "Pardon?" Slowly she moved her hand up his thigh, dangerously close to his hips. He stiffened slightly in response as his cheeks grew red. The faint memory of her being closer to him came back to him and he suddenly realized that she had watched him through the crack in his door. "You… you saw me…"_

_ "I did."_

_ Arthur clenched his eyes shut and silently wondered if this humiliation was his punishment for succumbing to such a state. "It doesn't matter," said Aashiyana softly, "This house is yours, after all."_

_ "Fuck the house, Aashiyana," he snapped, "Don't try to speak. Just try to concentrate on breathing for now."_

_ Aashiyana chuckled softly, though it was short and sort of strangled. "You don't need to feel ashamed."_

_ Arthur felt he could argue the point of that, but decided against it. Instead, he pulled her closer against his body and kissed her on the top of her head. She turned slowly to face him and wrapped her arms around him, snuggling close against him. He laid his cheek on top of her head and held her securely in his arms, attempting to forget the fact that she saw him touching himself inappropriately. _

_ "Did you think of me, I wonder," said Aashiyana softly against his bare chest. The movement made his heart flutter slightly, but he ignored it. _

_ "You are the reason I couldn't sleep," said Arthur in a soft voice._

_ "Is that so?"_

_ "Just try to sleep," grunted Arthur in annoyance._

_ "I'm all right," said Aashiyana, "It doesn't matter though, anyway."_

_ "What do you mean?" asked Arthur, frowning faintly at her._

_ "What we are suffering is a famine. If it continues I'll simply die and you will be made greater for it, won't you?" said Aashiyana into his chest. Arthur gripped her tighter against him, curling over her as though to protect her._

_ "You idiot," he said roughly, "Of course it matters if you die." Aashiyana moved to look at him, but the way he held her barely allowed so much movement and instead she just still against him. He nuzzled gently into her black hair and sighed. "Just sleep, Aashiyana. Please."_

_ She finally managed to move herself away from him a little to look up at him. The unnaturally bright green ring around her pupil now more apparent than it had been before; he smiled at it, feeling strangely proud it was there. "That's an interesting mix."_

_ "It's your fault."_

_ "I think it's pretty," said Arthur. He gently stroked her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear slowly. His cheeks flared up once more as he had a notion to kiss her, but, instead, reigned himself in and very carefully moved his face away from hers. "I'll go in the morning. I'll leave on the ship back to London and tell the queen of your troubles, Aashiyana. I'll get aid over here as quickly as I can, but I'll be gone a while. I'll expect you will be glad to be rid of me, of course."_

_ "No," said Aashiyana, "If she is to see the plight of my people then she must see me."_

_ "Don't be daft. You can't go anywhere in the state you are in now," said Arthur._

_ "Nonsense," muttered Aashiyana as she moved away from him and sat herself up on the bed. She looked steady enough for the moment. "As you said, the queen will not come to the beck and call of," she paused with no small amount of apprehension, "of a colony."_

_ "All right," said Arthur as he got off the bed, "But you will be sharing a cabin with me on the ship. And you will want more modest clothing when you reach England. The weather is far chillier there than it will ever be here."_

_ "Don't press your luck," said Aashiyana in irritation, "I'll wear what I wish."_

_ "I said more modest clothing, idiot, not what my countrywomen wear. I know there are more modest styles here. Believe me, you will want to wear them when you reach England's shores," said Arthur in just much irritation, "Otherwise I might likely have to continually deprive myself of my coat to keep you warm and covered."_

_ "I will manage, Britain," said Aashiyana, looking away from him. Arthur frowned at the new usage of his national identity. _

_ "Fine," said Arthur snappishly, "Then, I'll see you later, India." Then, he started to walk out of the room._

_ "What do you think of me?" she asked softly, looking at him with a strange light in those strange eyes of hers._

_ Arthur contemplated telling her a lie, that he hardly thought anything of her, but instead he spoke what was on his mind. "You're stubborn. You're hard to deal with. You—you're beautiful, graceful, intoxicating beyond all." He turned to look at her and the gaze she held for him was softened, gentler than previously. It was warm. Some of her color had come back to her cheeks, the moonlight from the window making her look as magical as the fairy queen Tatiana. _

_ "You should sleep," said she with a very small smile on her pretty lips, "I expect you will have to make arrangements in the morning."_

_ "Yes, I should," said Arthur as he watched her stand from the bed and walk to her wardrobe and took out some fresh clothes. She kept her back to him as she changed out of her night clothes, a secret smile on her face. Arthur stared, transfixed, at her back; her lovely curves, the suggestion of her breasts being visible to him. "Do you need help?" he asked when he noticed it was taking a lot of effort for her to manage such a small task._

_ "Getting dressed? I am hardly a child, Britain," said Aashiyana in amusement, "Though I am sure you could undress me just as well. Though, I am quite certain you have spent yourself for the night."_

_ "Hardly, but that doesn't matter," muttered Arthur as he put a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes a bit. "Look, do me a favor and get some sleep, please. I will do the same."_

_ "As you wish, Maharaja," said Aashiyana softly._

_ Arthur turned away then and walked to his room again, closing the door this time and settling into his bed as he muttered to himself, "That fucking woman will be the end of me. I know it." With that, he fell asleep soon after. _


	2. Chapter Two

_A/N: glad ya'll like this. . it's taking a lot to make sure I've got at least most of the information right for the murders. I've got like two sites I'm looking at simultaneously to make sure I don't accidentally go totally on From Hell instead what the actual accounts are. . though I may just slip up a bit on that. _

_I'm an idiot. I uploaded the document file and then promptly forgot about posting it up. sorry!  
_

_Chapter Two_

Arthur made his way to Scotland Yard to see what the investigators were finding. The queen was right, he had knowledge of things from long ago that might help in the case, though he barely counted his knowledge as such. After all, he was mostly a military man, mostly a knight or a bowman. He could ride a horse into battle and take many down with his sword. He could pull up a rifle and pick off his targets. However, he was hardly an investigator.

The commissioner was on leave to Switzerland so Arthur had to make his way to the inspectors directly. He found them pouring over some letters that had been sent in. Arthur raised his eyebrows and took his hat off as he knocked on the door frame. "You are the investigators on this case?"

One looked up and gave him a questioning look. "A gentleman?"

"I work closely with the queen," said Arthur as he walked in and put his hat and cane down, moving closer to the desk and looking over. "What are these letters, may I ask?"

"That's right, you're the one that came yesterday asking about the murders," said the other inspector, "These letters were sent in. Too many of them to be real, though."

"Yes, most of these are faked, I expect. I haven't seen one that's looked genuine," said the first inspector.

Arthur nodded. "I have been given the order to come in and apply any knowledge I might have to aid the investigation," he said, looking to the pair.

"You're a bit young aren't you?" asked the second inspector.

"Only in appearance," said Arthur quickly. The first inspector handed him the findings so far on the investigation and sat down, smoking quietly. Arthur nodded to him and then looked at the papers carefully, sitting back in a chair opposite to them. The first prostitute was Mary Anne Nichols, called "Polly" by others. She had been punched and had some of her teeth knocked out. Her throat was sliced open and she had her stomach ripped open by something jagged. Lower to that were the more disturbing incisions, cut with precision. Arthur frowned deeply, looking at the reports.

The second victim, who was more recent, was a woman named Annie Chapman. She too had been punched and her throat slit, but her teeth were in fine condition. She had been cut open entirely and her uterus was taken out with that same disturbing precision. Arthur knew a little of anatomy, but he was hardly a doctor. For once he wished he had that idiot America's state who became a nurse, Georgia, during his civil war not that long ago to help him with this. It would take too long to get her to come over to aid him and he didn't want another woman in the house that wasn't a maid or cook or anything else.

The uterus. It was hidden and hard to get to. Just a simple butcher wouldn't be able to get it, not unless he had an interest in dissecting things he butchered as a side hobby. It was also in the dark and the man worked quickly. The first was done with a jagged blade, the second done with a much sharper, more precise hand. "I know what you're thinking," said the first inspector, blowing out some smoke from his cigarette. Arthur looked up to him with those unnaturally colored eyes of his. "Has to be someone who knows what the fuck he's doing," said the inspector, "I know because that's what we came up with."

"It's hard to imagine someone doing these things this way without some sort of idea of where they're going," said the second inspector.

"Indeed," muttered Arthur as he looked at the notes. "As it is hard to believe an educated man could do this." No it wasn't. Arthur had seen many an animal that was an "educated man" in his lifetime. He had seen noblemen that were supposed to be better than the mere pikeman who took pleasure in ripping open those in front of him whether they were his own or not. He had seen noblemen rape a woman and claim she lied to the king only to have her go silent and bear the pain of it or bear the bastard of the bastard. He had seen atrocities done purely because they were enjoyable to upper class men and women and he knew it was in them to do such things as much as it was in any other man or woman.

"Indeed," said the first inspector, "My name is Inspector Abberline, this is Chief Inspector Moore. We have another colleague on this case named Inspector Andrews, though he is not present at the moment."

"I see," said Arthur, looking to them. "My name is Sir Arthur Kirkland."

"Well, Sir Arthur," said Inspector Moore, "Would you mind giving us any thoughts you might have that could be so valuable?" He was clearly not too happy to have some "lackey" of the queen looking after them.

"All I can say is what I've already said. These are precisely done, the uterus is hard to locate, especially in the dark, and he will kill again. The queen only worries that the killer might not stick with just prostitutes, so I'm here to help make sure that doesn't happen," said Arthur calmly, flicking his eyes to Inspector Moore.

"Very astute," said Inspector Abberline. "Out of curiosity, Sir Arthur, are you military?"

"I'm a lot of things," said Arthur.

The inspectors didn't look the least bit convinced by him, though Arthur simply kept to a generally excepted version of things for himself. He put the papers down and eyed them both with no small measure of irritation. "Though young I may seem to you, I am exceedingly well informed and educated, I've worked with the queen for a while and, yes, I have served in the military. I am also a swordsman, a bowman, whatever else you want from me. I've done it. As I said, I only look young. I just happen to age very well. It's in the family. The only thing I am not is a doctor, but I have a small knowledge of anatomy enough to know that the uterus is hard to find from the inside," he saw a small smirk appear on the pair of detectives, "and that the incisions on the bodies were not done with an ordinary knife. Perhaps a bit dulled, but dull knives can be sharpened."

"Well, Sir Arthur, that is a start at least," said Moore.

"A killer of this sickness, this twisted and sadistic, that takes pure joy out of ripping open and dissecting a woman, will not be sending letters and if he does he likely will disguise his words to appear as though he were lesser than what he is, while still keeping a kernel of truth inside it. The best lies are ones based from truth, gentlemen," said Arthur.

"Always tell a truth within a lie," said Abberline.

"Exactly."

Abberline and Moore eyed him a moment, making Arthur feel a little like he was on trial. Then, they pulled out more papers and Arthur was allowed to look at those as well. Eventually Arthur had to leave to look at the places the women had been found, though he told the men that he was going home to get some sleep on account of his severe lack of it. He did go home, though it was to get some of the cocaine he kept hidden away in his room with his laudanum. He noticed Bernard had hidden away his scotch, but hadn't found the absinthe that he also kept. He took a little of the cocaine and put the rest back, feeling far more energized than he had before.

He made his way to Buck's Row in Whitechapel, ignoring most everyone around him. The prostitutes that tried to intrigue him into their services were disgusting to him. There was only one woman who could entice him better than any other and she was half way across the world from him. "Oh, aren' you an 'andsome gent," said a whore. "Why don' you let little Betty show you a good time?"

"You do realize that there is a killer on the loose targeting you **charming** ladies," said Arthur with just a slightest bit of irritation. Betty frowned at him and put her hands on her hips.

"I'll 'ave you know tha' if tha' beast comes along I'll kick 'im where it 'urts," snapped Betty. Arthur rolled his eyes and started walking. "Oi! You! Bet you're into boys, then! There're a couple down that—!"

Arthur put the tip of his cane at her throat and pressed just enough to get her attention, his green eyes angry. "I'll tell you this. You fucking irritate me and I don't like being irritated. I've seen your sort for the longest time wandering about, calling your trades to the gentlemen and sailors and common men alike, but you have nothing that interests me. There is only one that has my attention and she's not here." Then, he pulled the cane away from her with a flick of his wrist and walked away from her, little Betty standing stock still while her compatriots looked on in puzzlement.

The street was as listed in the file. A board school was there and a wall, the corner of which was where Polly had been found. The report said that there was a wine glass in the gutter and not nearly enough blood to coincide with how much she had lost. That meant that her body had been moved and set into place to be found, at least in Arthur's mind. Arthur's mind was racing as much as his pulse was beginning to do. His stomach was also starting to bother him. Perhaps he should have eaten before he had left for the east end.

He made his way to Hanbury Street and looked for the garden area that Annie Chapman had been left. Once again he was greeted by another whore, her friend next to her and they were chatting. In a corner he heard a man making use of the services of one of the ladies around. The grunting and groaning making him feel sick inside. He quickly went straight to #29 and looked around the area to see if he could at least imagine how the murder took place. He recalled that a witness had said they had seen Annie with a "shabby-genteel" man dressed in dark clothing somewhere close to the time of her death. Shabby-genteel? A man perhaps trying to look like a gentleman? Or maybe it was again a disguise?

Arthur rubbed his eyes and made his way back, getting knocked into by the man who just finished the whore's services. "Watch where you're goin'!" snapped the man. "Oh, some pretty gent come along?" sneered the man.

Arthur ignored him and continued on his way. When he made it back to his home he was beyond tired and his stomach hurt. He felt sick and wanted to vomit, but kept it in. Bernard eyed him sternly and made him sit down to eat at the dining table. "You're going to run yourself ragged the way you are going, sir," Bernard had said.

Arthur ate little, enough to make the hunger go away and make the sick feeling subside some, but dared not eat more. He then made his way up to his room and sat down with his bottle of absinthe and laudanum and put a few drops of laudanum into his absinthe, putting the laudanum away with his cocaine in case Bernard decided to walk in, to help lull his mind and ease the sick feelings inside him away.

_

* * *

The trip overseas had been long and arduous. Arthur had kept Aashiyana in his cabin for the duration of the trip to England, slowly driving him mad with wanting and frightening him to death with his wanting of her. Once on England's shores he felt a lot better. All of her usual attitude had disappeared on the trip, replaced by silent contemplation. _

_ As he had predicted the air was "quite chill" in England and so she wore a much larger saari and a brightly colored shawl as she sat with him in the carriage. Once out, he showed her around the street his home was located on, the fence around it extending to the back where his beloved fairy tree stood. Mustardseed, to her credit, kept inside his coat pocket and didn't come out once, though she squirmed when she was accidentally hit._

_ People walked along the side walks, women dressed fully in clothes whether they were selling flowers on the street, middle class women pulling their children along or if they were upper class; though the upper class women wore far more clothing than the others and in more elaborate styles. The men were dressed up just as much as the women, each with a hat signifying their status in life. When Arthur and Aashiyana walked together they each in turn stared at Aashiyana in particular. She stuck out like a sore thumb among them all wearing her brightly colored saari and shawl. _

_ Arthur held his handkerchief to her in afterthought when he remembered that her air quality back home was a lot cleaner than London's ever thought of being. "You'll need it, believe me," he said to her. She politely declined and put her veil over her face and secured it, quite accustomed to air hazards of some kind. Arthur smiled just the faintest bit as he tucked his handkerchief away and walked with her like a proper gentleman with a lady on his arm. What a pair they must seem! An Indian in all her exotic beauty walking arm in arm with a handsome young gentleman; somehow it made Arthur grin broadly, like he had just pilfered a great treasure all for himself._

_ When they returned home he found his butler, Bernard, an older man who had once served in the military over in India for some time before becoming Arthur's butler, had overseen the luggage put in their proper places in the home. Arthur walked in and introduced Bernard to Aashiyana and allowed her to go up to her room in his house where she could freshen up and Arthur could talk to Bernard about the trip and events at home._

_ "What do you think of her, Bernard," asked Arthur as he straightened his collar and tie._

_ "I think she is what she is," said Bernard, brushing off Arthur's shoulders with his hands and straightening Arthur's jacket, "She is India as much as you are England. By that she is by that very definition a grand lady and you are still quite the pirate, though I think you're beginning to shape up a little." Arthur eyed him a bit and made sure his hair was slicked back in place properly with some pomade. "You've never stopped being a pirate, sir, if I may be frank."_

_ Arthur smirked faintly and put his gloves on again after washing his hands off in a wash basin. "You've never kept too many of your words in check when it's just the two of us, though you more often than not tend toward being very subversive in your opinion of me."_

_ "I am what I am," said Bernard, "and now you and Miss Singh must make haste to the palace."_

_ Arthur sent a maid to go fetch Aashiyana from her room. She came down, more queenly in her appearance than ever, and followed Arthur out on his arm to the carriage. She had applied fresh henna to her hands, put fresh khol around her eyes, put on her best jewelry and her best saari of exquisite colors that made her look more like a fantasy than an actual person. Arthur couldn't help but appreciate her appearance as they rode to the palace inside the carriage. When they reached Arthur gained permission to come in and request an audience with Victoria herself. _

_ A man came and fetched them saying, "Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, will give you an audience, Sir Arthur." Then, they were ushered into the courtly chamber where Victoria sat waiting for them, dressed in her black clothes of mourning. Her beloved husband had died several years ago and yet she still wore the black clothing. _

_ Arthur bowed deeply and said, "Your Highness, I have returned from India as requested of me."_

_ The hard faced, cold eyed woman regarded him from her seat, flicking those hard eyes on Aashiyana before moving back to Arthur. "Indeed, I see that, Sir Arthur. What news have you brought us?"_

_ "I think I should let Miss Singh explain," said Arthur as he straightened up._

_ "I asked you, Sir Arthur," said Victoria._

_ "This is India," said Arthur, but was cut short by Victoria._

_ "Yes, we have surmised that quite easily, Sir Arthur."_

_ Arthur blew air through his lips with some impatience, trying to keep his cool to the queen. It only half worked. "Your Majesty," said Arthur in a slightly annoyed tone, "I implore you to listen to her. You did ask for me to bring her back for an interview, didn't you?"_

_ "It was also requested that she be dressed accordingly to what a British colony would require of a lady," said Victoria. However, Victoria did look to Aashiyana finally with those hard eyes of her and looked her over. "And you, India," said she, "What have you to tell us?"_

_ Aashiyana bowed down humbly to Victoria. When she spoke, her usually fairly thick accent was clearer. "My Empress Victoria," said she, "It is at the end of need that I have appeared before you."_

_ "As is apparent to us," said Victoria, "You are clearly unwell in your appearance."_

_ Aashiyana stood up gracefully and looked to Victoria with those black and green eyes of hers, the thin green ring around her pupils just a bit brighter. "It is the welfare of my people, great queen of the British Empire, my Empress, which makes me seem so to you. My heart is glad that you have taken I and my countrymen under your protection and consideration; just as you have donated, from your own purse, to the people of Ireland suffering from famine."_

_ Arthur noticed, as did the queen, a bit of blood oozing from Aashiyana's lips as she spoke. Arthur pulled his handkerchief out as Victoria said, "You have a spot of blood on your lip." Aashiyana readily accepted the handkerchief and put it to her mouth in a rather delicate fashion, at least more delicate than she usually was around Arthur. _

_ "Forgive my state, Your Highness," said Aashiyana, her voice just slightly strangled. _

_ Victoria turned her attention to Arthur, her eyes boring into him. "Refresh my memory, Sir Arthur."_

_ "When a significant number of people are lost in a nation we reflect it in this grotesque manner," said Arthur. "We bleed for them." For a moment he swallowed as the memory of Aashiyana for once not regal but curled up and fairly vomiting up blood in such quantities as to kill any normal person out right. "This is only a small amount of her suffering, Your Majesty."_

_ "How small?"_

_ Arthur's skin went white, but he kept his green gaze locked on his queen, his voice strained. "The blood gushed forth from her in quantities that would drain any normal person. She nearly choked on it when I had her lie down. It eventually stopped, but it was a truly frightening sight to be certain. In all my years, my queen, I have no shed so much blood for my countrymen. Neither I or France or Spain or even America have seen such losses before. She is losing them by the millions."_

_ Victoria regarded him a moment and nodded. "I see." She straightened herself up and nodded to them both. "We can't have India dying out. Supplies will be sent and doctors for the sick." Arthur smiled a bit in relief and breathed a bit better, flicking a relieved look to Aashiyana before Victoria spoke again. "And Sir Arthur," said she in her hard tone, "Be certain to make sure that Miss India wears proper British attire while here. I have no care of what she wears in her homeland, but while she is here I will not have a colony of Great Britain dressed in such outrageous clothing."_

_ Aashiyana bowed gracefully toward Victoria, looking ever more the fairy queen to the reality sitting before them. "Your command is my honored duty, my Empress," said Aashiyana, "I thank Your Highness from the depth of my heart for your aid. I humbly extend an invitation to Your Majesty to come and review that part of Great Britain that is my home."_

_ "I accept your invitation, though in due time," said Victoria._

_ "Your Highness honors India with your gracious concern," said Aashiyana._

_ "You are both dismissed."_

_ Arthur, at that, took Aashiyana's arm and led her out of the chamber and out of the palace. Once inside the carriage her chest rose and fell visibly with her heavy breathing. The pollution in the air and the lives she lost made it difficult to breathe. She had been restraining the blood and the burning in her chest all during the interview and the toll it took out of her was showing._

_ Arthur wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held Aashiyana closer to his side, watching her worriedly as she coughed and stained a portion of her saari with blood as she covered her mouth. "I'll have the maids clean that out of your saari," said Arthur softly._

_ "Just get me back to the house," said Aashiyana in an even more strangled voice than before, "Please hurry!"_

_ Arthur nodded and leaned into a pipe used to communicate with the driver. "Driver," he cried, "quicken pace!" As soon as he did that the sound of the reigns snapping and the rocking of the carriage as it moved swiftly through the London streets back to Arthur's house resounded in Arthur while he watched the deterioration of Aashiyana beside him. _

_ "Do you think I made a good impression?" asked Aashiyana through the blood in her throat. _

_ Arthur looked away from her and out the window as he watched the streets and buildings pass by him. "It's hard to say. Her Majesty is a very… hard…woman." Aashiyana simply nodded weakly, covering her mouth again with the bloodied part of her saari. When they made it to the house, Arthur helped Aashiyana walk into it, shedding his hat and cane, but neglecting his coat as he helped her as quickly as he could up the stairs. Her body was tense, twitching as she grit her teeth against the burning in her chest, against the blood that tried to force its way up her throat. Arthur pulled her to the bathroom where he had a drain put into the floor. There, he pulled the door shut and pulled her closer to the drain underneath the tub. _

_ "Here," said Arthur in as gentle a voice as she had ever heard from him in the longest time, "You can let it out here." As if on command she coughed violently, blood pouring forth from her in higher quantities than the last fit. She had clearly been holding it in a lot longer than just the carriage ride. She had been holding it in since they boarded the ship. She had held it in while walking with him. She had held it in during the interview with Victoria. Now, it was all coming out at once. France wept openly when he lost the lives he did, when he bled so badly for his people, but most importantly when he lost his beloved Jeanne. Aashiyana didn't cry. She didn't sob like a woman should at such losses. Even as her beautiful brown skin grew pale and held onto him tightly for support she did not cry once. She was a far braver woman than Arthur had seen in a long time. She reminded him of Elizabeth in a lot of ways; with her queenly stature, her intellect and her bravery._

_ Even with that bravery it didn't do Arthur's peace of mind any good to see her in such a state. He held her hair away from her face, held her up so that she didn't fall face first into the bloody mess, but inside he was, for once in a long time, truly terrified. He was terrified that this was her death-nell._

_ When at last it seemed she was done, he pulled a towel over and wet it down with some water and wiped her face with it, cleaning off the blood and soothing her skin as well as he could. She panted heavily, trying to get her breath back as she leaned into him, her body shaking badly. "It's… It is over," she mumbled._

_ "Sit down," he said softly in her ear and set her in a chair that was against the wall near a mirror mounted on the wall and the pitcher and wash basin set on a table as well as Arthur's shaving razor. When she was seated, he knelt down and tossed his coat and jacket off quickly, his tie, collar and gloves soon following. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves to his elbows and then unbuttoned his shirt at the neck so he could get a little more freedom. He pulled away the veil she wore, which had blood on it, and tossed it into the tub and took the wetted towel again to her body to try to clean her up as well as he could._

_ Aashiyana trembled badly in the chair, her skin an ashen color to its usual healthy hue. She looked to have lost weight right there when she was vomiting up the blood. She moaned very faintly as she tried to move, but couldn't. When Arthur felt she was cleaned enough, he lifted her up into his arms and walked her to his bedroom, bypassing her bedroom in the process. He placed her in the soft, four poster bed and pulled the covers up over her to help warm her chilly skin. Her eyes rolled into her head as she seemed about to faint. Arthur gently slapped her cheek to have her focus on him to keep her from going to sleep. "Look at me," he said._

_ She grunted loudly and gripped his shoulder, her will to live coming to life in that second. He sat down in the bed beside her and held her against him for support. Slowly her shaking subsided and she moved closer against him, nuzzling into him. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair carefully, laying his white cheek against her. He gently shushed her and continued to rub her side and her back to comfort her. Silently he prayed for her. _

_ However, Aashiyana seemed to be running in an automatic fashion, seeking his warm body like a snake seeking the heat of its prey. She gently writhed against his warm body, her lips coming into contact with the nearest part of him that she could get to first: the vein in his neck. She suckled against it, her tongue moving slowly against his skin as she pressed desperate, though very warm, open mouthed kisses to his throat. Arthur's cheeks flushed considerably, his green eyes going wide. His heart hammered quickly in his chest, the feeling of his quickening pace felt against Aashiyana's mouth. _

_ "A-A-Aashiyana," he stammered, torn between keeping some propriety and answering her needy call. Her mouth moved up to just under his jaw and drew even more sensation from him. He groaned then, softly, almost afraid to voice his pleasure. _

_ She whispered in her native tongue against his skin, "Isn't this better… than doing it by yourself?" He grunted in irritation, at first ready to shove her off him in embarrassment, but she set the challenge to him and he never liked to let a challenge go. He pulled her up against him and kissed her, his tongue moving against hers in hungry motions. His heart hammered harder in his chest as he pulled off his waistcoat and shoved his suspenders off of his shoulders. He growled into her mouth as he frantically pulled his shirt off as she pulled her saari from her body. Their heated motions made her bangles jingle uncontrollably. _

_ His body had grown hot in that time. Her fingers moved over his freshly revealed skin, his helping her get the saari off of her body as he kicked his shoes off with even less care than he gave anything else he wore. Her fingers loosened his trousers easily as he pulled the tight, fitted top from her body and her petticoat from her hips. Soon, his trousers joined the rest of their clothes elsewhere in the room._

_ His mouth moved over her neck, her collar bones, to her breast where he elicited desperate cries from her as he teased her breasts. "Please, Arthur, please," she gasped as she straddled his hips, "I need you. By the gods, I need you." As if on cue he pressed into her and thrust into her with lewd groans. The tension that had built between them from the voyage on the ship was peaking in this one moment. He could feel from her the satisfaction of having him moving within her body beyond the simple need of his warmth and the need to feel alive. _

_ She kept nothing quiet as she thrust her hips on him, kept nothing secret. She moaned and writhed wantonly; he in turn bit her shoulders and kissed her feverishly. "No, don't be gentle," she cried out, "Don't be slow, don't be gentle. I need more! Don't stop!" As if to answer her desperation he stepped up to task, moving quicker, harder, gripping her tightly to him so that there was no escape from his affections. Tears came to her eyes of exhaustion, of too much, her voice ringing out beautifully as she pulled yet more from him and him from her. Beneath them, the bed made suspicious noises, though Arthur barely registered them._

_ He thrust deeper into her, quicker. She moved down and lapped up the sweat from his neck. In response he gripped her at the back of her head by her hair and forced her to look at him. Her black and green eyes were hot, bright and shining, but the look in his was molten. The gentlemanly Britain was gone and what she ripped from him was pure Arthur. "Say it," she said as she dug her nails into his back. "Say it!"_

_ "You're mine, Aashiyana," he said in heated Hindi, making her middle heat even more. He pulled her under him in a single motion and pulled her leg up over his arm, thrusting hard into her. "My India," he said in English, a triumphant grin on his lit up face. With the new angle, she arched like a bow and gripped his shoulders wildly, her body convulsing around him violently as she cried out loud enough to echo on the walls. He followed her over the edge as he made his own cries of ecstasy to echo her own, his heat spilling into her. The world slowed until it was just them, his hair messy from her fingers clutching it, her body now flushed and glowing from their coupling. _

_ They laid like that, their hearts still beating quickly, though slowing down a little. He laid down closer to her, still cradled between her lovely legs and held her as possessively as he had taken her. All at once the bed fell under them and hit the floor. Arthur let out a loud grunt when he landed on top of her a bit harder than he wanted and grumbled as he looked to the broken ties that had been holding the bed in place. "It seems I'll need to get new ties for the bed," he muttered, mostly to himself. _

_ She licked up his throat, wanting more from him though she looked as though she might be in a bit of pain. The bite marks he had made on her were bruising slowly, growing more colorful. Arthur looked to her and leaned down, kissing her far gentler than he had ever done before. She shook slightly under him, trembling from the fatigue and their actions. As it began to register to him, he spoke aloud, "I was too rough, I think." When she looked to him in mild confusion he smiled a little and said, "You've lost a lot of blood, your body is in pain and I think I've compounded it." _

_ Then, he grinned brilliantly to her. "It feels good though, doesn't it?"_

_ Aashiyana smiled at him and stroked his lip with her thumb, gazing into his bright green eyes. "More than I can ever say," she said softly, "I must admit, Britain—Arthur—I like this side of you." His cheeks flushed more as he looked at her. She smiled at him warmly. "I like when you are honest. I prefer it when you don't hide behind the veil of society and simply are just you. I like 'too rough'. I like 'too much'." Then, her smile grew impish. "I think I will like being yours."_

_ His tongue moved out slowly over her thumb, eliciting a moan from her, her eyes trained on his tongue, though his were trained on her. Slowly, he took her thumb into his mouth and continued to move his tongue against it in languid motions. She moved closer against him, like a moth to a flame, her eyes alight with renewed desire, though her exhaustion was taking hold a lot quicker. He moved his tongue over her palm to her wrist and continued to tease the sensitive skin there as far as her bangles allowed him until he saw that she was too fatigued to continue. _

_ "Sleep," he said as he moved her hand away from his face and settled on his side, his arms wrapped around her. "I'll join you." With a small smile, she snuggled up against him and succumbed to her weariness. _

_ He was faintly aware of the maids outside, little Olivia among them with little Emily beside her and tall Emma next to Emily. He could faintly hear their whispering of "Is he all right?"_

_ "Should… should we make sure Sir Arthur hasn't died?" whispered Emily._

_ "I don't know! Maybe he's turned savage!" gasped Olivia._

_ "You don't think the woman made him so, do you?" asked Emma. "Maybe she has given him some sort of jungle fever!"_

_ "Shut the fuck up out there!" Arthur shouted snappishly._

_ Bernard the butler came up behind them and eyed them with annoyance. "Don't you three have duties to attend to?" he said sharply. The maids immediately scurried off away from him. Bernard opened the door and averted his eyes politely. "My apologies, Master Kirkland," said Bernard, "I expect lunch is postponed then?"_

_ "Yes," Arthur mumbled, waving his hand about in a rather silly fashion, "I'll ring when we wake up." Then, he promptly passed out against Aashiyana's warm body._


	3. Chapter Three

_A/N: I can't wait until Jack the Ripper in America comes on Discovery. I heard about it from Lexy. XD It'll be interesting what the findings are._

_Forgot something. Hold on._

_Chapter Three_

Not a single thing had happened for the longest time on the strange, disturbing Whitechapel murders. Arthur, meanwhile, was being forced to come in almost daily to speak to the queen on various things, such as territory, military issues and the like; the sort of things he normally had to do with her or her advisors or even go to Parliament. He had left instructions with Inspectors Abberline and Moore to send him any word if something should turn up, though he knew he must stick in their sides like a thorn. He still questioned whether he was even necessary.

Was he necessary? Was he really? He hardly ever felt that he was anymore. Oh, certainly, he was the British Empire, but his expertise, his knowledge, was in things that could never really be put to use in solving a case like the Whitechapel murders. The newspapers were reporting that some small murders were in connection with these murders, but Arthur knew they weren't. He had a feeling about it inside him. Something was slithering through his veins, secretive like a rat and just as disgusting. Mustardseed flitted out from her hiding place of his hat and sat on his shoulder, her yellow, curly hair bouncing as she sat. She had small, very tiny, flowers in her hair that she had found in the grass, her clothes made from whatever things the fairies found.

"Arthur," said Mustardseed, "You don't look good. Maybe you should sleep and eat."

"I can't sleep," said Arthur automatically, "And when I try to eat I feel nauseated."

"That's because you never eat anything when you drink that green stuff," quipped Mustardseed. "If you ate more often then you wouldn't feel so bad."

"I've got duties, Mustardseed," he muttered, keeping his voice quiet as some people passed him by on the sidewalk. Dreams kept him awake, bad ones where he saw things he never wanted to remember. He also forgot to eat frequently, though he rationalized it in his own mind that he hardly needed to eat much at all and it saved on expenses. The only things he needed were distractions from the dreams and the times when he was awake during the day.

The dreams. He woke up just that late afternoon with not just a splitting headache from the alcohol but also sweating and shivering. It was a series of things that he always dreamed; things that he saw in the past, things that he never saw but was sure came straight out of his imagination and things that felt like they might happen. He saw Saint Jeanne the maiden burning, her dear national personification Francis Bonnefoy trying to reach out to her, tears in his eyes as that precious piece of his being was burned and Arthur trying desperately to keep Francis from going into the fire with her. He saw Aashiyana as a skeleton, the Indian peoples dead and decaying around her. He saw pieces of a woman floating in the Thames River. He saw the insane grin of a man mostly in shadow as he spoke, but Arthur could not hear the words.

He stepped inside his house and was greeted by Bernard. Mustardseed made a quick exit away from him to join her friends and family in the fairy tree out in the backyard. Arthur made his way up to his room when he saw, in one of the windows, a white thing in his backyard near the tree. He dashed quickly, sprawling on the floor when he tripped himself up on a table leg, and hurried to the back door. In the backyard he saw the fairy tree and a white thing in the vague form of a horse like creature, eating grass around the base of the tree. The fairies came out and danced around it, but it never came into focus for him.

His heart pounded as he walked closer toward it, stumbling slightly as his ankle throbbed a bit from his earlier spill. His bright green eyes were wide with wonder and confusion, small tears forming in the corners. A unicorn had found its way into his backyard, but why was she so blurry to him? He could feel it was female, though he couldn't see her clearly at all. What was wrong with him that he couldn't even see her that well? "Unicorn?" he asked softly.

The white thing seemed to turn its head toward him and stare, though he couldn't see much else. He could barely feel much else from her. "Unicorn, why can't I see you properly?" he asked. Again, he got nothing, not even a feeling. He reached out slowly toward her where he believed her nose was trying to touch her. "Please," he said softly, desperately, "Please give me some sort of feeling. Please whinny or stamp. Please touch me." Then, as the unicorn moved her head toward him, and he felt the faintest bit of fur on her nose, the faintest feeling of magic, she disappeared from his sight.

Arthur stared, his bright green eyes staring at the place where all that magic had been, where all that purity had been. Now, all he saw was the trunk of the fairy tree, the fairies flying up into its leaves as though to get away from him or observe him. He looked down at his hand as though it were not his at all. It was something foreign to him. It wasn't real. Tears ran down his cheeks slowly, though he barely felt them. Had he become so corrupt somehow that he could not touch a unicorn much less see one properly?

"Master Kirkland?" Bernard's voice filtered through his thoughts from the back door. Arthur turned slowly and looked over his shoulder at him. Bernard raised an eyebrow at him and calmly put a tray of tea down as well as what appeared to be a quickly put together envelope underneath the tray. He pulled a chair out from the tea table outside and looked to Arthur calmly. "Is something amiss, Master Kirkland?"

Arthur looked down at his hand again, looking every bit a lost child. "I," he said softly, "I… couldn't touch a unicorn." Bernard pours a cup of tea for Arthur as Arthur numbly walked closer, limping slightly. He sat down a bit limply and stared at the tea cup in front of him. "I couldn't even see her properly."

"It doesn't surprise me in the least," said Bernard as he put in a cube of sugar into Arthur's cup and stirred it for him, "If I may be honest, that is." Arthur looked up at him in a questioning manner, frowning faintly. "What with your current condition, I'm surprised you can see anything at all."

That seemed to snap Arthur out of his daze. Arthur glared at him a bit and stood up. "What condition? I have no current condition except tired."

"I must ask you to sit, sir," said Bernard in a slightly more authoritative tone than he usually held. Arthur, at that tone, sat down immediately and looked to Bernard expectantly. Bernard, for his part, took his time before speaking; waiting on Arthur to sip his tea a little to calm him down some. "I realize that I am not quite as old as you are and you are made of stronger stuff than I," said Bernard, "But I have seen gentlemen, young and old, succumb to the things they poison their bodies with and end up in the morgue."

He added a bit of lemon to Arthur's tea for good measure and then put the various materials for the tea back onto the tray. "In my opinion you using those substances and the like is why you are unable to see or even interact with your little friends."

Arthur sipped silently for a moment, mulling over his butler's words. There was a reason he kept him on and it had partly to do with the man knowing what Arthur and the other nations were and the other part was for how knowledgeable and clever the man was. "I know you're probably right," said Arthur, "I don't have a problem." Bernard fixed him with one of his famous stern looked, but Arthur ignored it. "Besides, I need the cocaine at the very least to keep moving."

Bernard sighed and internally shook his head, but continued with the tea service. "Of course, sir," said Bernard. He then pulled an envelope from under the tray and handed it to Arthur. "This arrived for you just a moment ago," said Bernard.

Arthur took the envelope, which was hastily put together and written, and opened it. The note was from Inspector Abberline and he was asking him to come to Scotland Yard as quickly as he could. Arthur stood up and straightened his collar and tie, and then he walked past Bernard. "It seems that there's been a letter that was sent to the Central News Agency that looks suspicious. The Central News Agency sent it to Scotland Yard to have a look at it and want me to take a look as well."

"I will have the cook prepare something that can be kept until you return then, Master Kirkland," said Bernard. Arthur waved at him, barely acknowledging him as he pulled his jacket, his coat and his hat on and grabbed his cane on the way out the door. He grabbed a carriage and rode it to the central office of Scotland Yard where he skipped up the steps, using a bit of the cocaine in his inside pocket before walking in so that he wouldn't look so tired to the rest of the men inside. Once again, his heart started to beat quickly as he made his way up to Inspectors Abberline and Moore's office.

Moore fixed him with a strange look and held out the letter to him. "This arrived to us," said Moore, "It was sent to the Central News Agency. They thought at first that it was just any other letter, but then there's something strange about it."

Arthur took the letter in his hands and looked at it. The ink used was scarlet, so bright it looked like the sort of fake blood paint that was used in the theatre for the back grounds. The penmanship was of good quality. It wasn't hastily done and looked like the hand of someone educated despite the content it held.

_Dear Boss,_

_  
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the __right__ track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper __red__ stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope __ha. ha.__ The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck._

_Yours truly_

_  
Jack the Ripper_

_Dont mind me giving the trade name_

_PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. __ha ha __ And best of luck to the gent you got._

"What do you make of it, Sir Arthur?" asked Abberline.

"Either he's an educated man trying to pass himself off as uneducated or he's an uneducated man getting someone to write for him. I can't imagine someone actually wanting to help write this," said Arthur. _And best of luck to the gent you got_. So someone had seen him go to Scotland Yard? How much did this person know of him? "Either way, this is the handwriting of someone who's worked at penmanship."

"That's what I figured," said Abberline, taking the letter and looking at it. "It's not a scrawl like one would expect of some lower class butcher or even a well to do butcher. The tilt and the lines are all very well constructed, albeit the content is very poor."

"Someone knows you're in on this," said Moore. "Best of luck to the gent, he says."

"I know, I read it," snapped Arthur.

"No need to get snippy with me," said Moore. Arthur sighed and apologized and looked to the letter again. "I would pass it off as a hoax on the handwriting, but the last part is very intriguing," said Moore again.

"It's unnerving. It means he's noticed me," said Arthur, eyeing the letter. Again he noted the lack of punctuation and proper sentence structure. He noted the proper, very strictly ruled tilt of the script, the very preciseness of the script contrasting greatly to the content in the words and the improper grammar. If he had managed to get someone to write for him, then that person, who was clearly educated by the preciseness of that script, would have known about putting in commas and apostrophes. And if it were an educated man writing to make himself look uneducated then he would not be able to get rid of the precise, strict tilting and curves of his script while writing poorly in the grammar and content. Chances were, in Arthur's mind, that if he wrote again, and Arthur expected he would, he would take less care with his handwriting.

"It's like he lined the paper and then made then erased them away, except there are no indications he did such a thing," said Arthur. "Perhaps he… practiced writing a great deal until he got the perfect look."

"An obsessive man," said Abberline.

"Yes, obsessive," muttered Arthur, "Obsessive and compulsive. He has very good penmanship and yet he writes without proper punctuation. Either he's faking the poor grammar or he's doing a very good job of looking smart."

"Someone who is as obsessive as that would be just as obsessive in how he dissects," said Abberline.

"Someone who is obsessive in how he dissects will be obsessive in his choice of victim and what he takes out," said Moore. The three looked to each other and Moore added, "The prostitutes and their livelihoods."

"The first woman is buried already, I expect, so we shan't dig her up. Poor girl deserves a rest, I should think," said Arthur. "Friends said she was well liked by everyone, a very nice woman, though her choice of profession is unfortunate. It can't be helped now. And she kept her thighs very clean, the coroner said."

"He says he'll clip an ear off," said Abberline softly. "We'll know if this is real if we find the next one is missing part of her ear."

"The next one? We have to find him before there is a next one," said Moore.

"You won't find him," said Arthur, putting the letter down. "This man wants to play with us. He's toying with us. It's a game to him. He's leaving nothing to trace him to. The Leather Apron story—the bit about finding a piece of a butcher's apron or a leather worker's apron—that was all just story. If anything, he probably put the piece of leather there to watch people scramble after it as a clue. He's laughing at us."

"And you've got his attention," said Moore. "What a lucky bastard you are," he said sarcastically. Arthur gave a small smile before it faded away. "You can't be alone now. If he's after you then he'll be breaking into your home or something."

"He'll find me a hard target to deal with," said Arthur, his heart starting to race a bit more. His right hand trembled slightly, his calm fading. He hid his hand in his coat pocket and gripped his cane a bit tighter. "I'll be fine," said Arthur. He turned toward the door and stopped, looking over his shoulder at the inspectors. "Please, inform me when there's more you've found."

"We will, Sir Arthur," said Abberline. Then, Arthur walked out.

Arthur made his way as quickly as he could back home. He had no desire to be caught out in the street hyperventilating from his body going mad. Something was wrong. Maybe he took too much cocaine? For once he wished Mustardseed would pop out of his hat or his coat and help guide him back to his house, for he felt extremely lost while he wandered the streets. He panted heavily and had to finally lean against the nearest wall and get his bearings. He was shaking badly, his body felt weak, far weaker than he had ever felt in all his long life. No matter what happened to him, to the people of England or the people of Britain, when they were hurt and brought down by something, they stood back up and went right back into the brawl without giving up. They were tenacious and, at times, vicious; and that was a part of who Arthur was!

People passed by him, looking at him with looks of concern, but mostly they simply kept to themselves. He was a gentleman and so, as a gentleman, he must therefore have the means to help himself. With all his strength, he shoved himself upright from the wall using his cane and walked unsteadily to the nearest cab.

"Wotcher, boss," said the cabby, tipping his hat. "What can I do f'you, sir?"

Arthur started to give his home address, but stopped himself. Jack the Ripper, as the newspapers had started calling him and Jack himself had called himself, could be lurking about; especially if he had taken noticed of Arthur. However, in Arthur's weakened condition, he needed to get home and quickly. Taking the risk, he told the driver which street to take him to and then paid him when the cabby took him to the end of his street. There, he walked to his house in a round about fashion, still gripping his cane harder than usual, his shaking right hand still in his pocket.

Perhaps Arthur was just being paranoid. That was one of the problems he had when he used the cocaine. He didn't have too much of a problem with the laudanum, though. He generally put a drop or two of that in his absinthe to help him forget the day for a while. Oh, it worked wonderfully. The strange feelings of the absinthe, an almost mind-altering feeling that wasn't quite the same as normal alcohol, in combination with the lovely laid back feeling of the laudanum mixed well with him to help him escape a while.

But, what if Bernard was right? What if all of the substances Arthur took was inhibiting his ability to speak with the fairies and the unicorns?

The unicorn came sharply to his mind and he had to hold his focus on walking so he could forget it. His mouth felt a bit dry and his stomach churned, hurting him as it told him he needed to put something inside it before he did anything else, making him feel sick. He finally went into his house and gave Bernard his hat, coat and cane, making his way to his room before the butler saw his terrible trembling.

"I'll have dinner sent up to your room then, Master Kirkland," said Bernard as he watched him go up the stairs. "And do try to eat some of it and drink some water."

Arthur ignored him and went up to the bathroom where he splashed water on his face and tried to get a handle on himself. His trembling seemed to be getting better, though it worsened when he didn't brace his hands on something. He got the pomade out of his hair and toweled his hair into a big mess, panting as he did so. Looking himself in the mirror he could see his cheekbones sticking out slightly. He was too pale. He ran a very careful hand over one of his thick eyebrows and shivered slightly, dropping his hand quickly away from him as color came to his cheeks. As always, those damn eyebrows of his caused him a great deal of trouble, be it because of their appearance or because someone managed to find out that touching them was a bit like touching his cock.

He sighed as he calmed down some, the memory of Aashiyana claiming he looked more natural and handsome with his hair wild and free coming to his mind. He smiled a bit, staggering away from the table with the wash basin and the mirror mounted on the wallpapered wall and walked back to his room where he found his dinner waiting for him on the little table in front of his windows. He ate until he felt a bit sick, which didn't take much, but drank his fill of water from a pitcher that was left for him. With something in his stomach he took out his favorite recreational drink for a few years now, his absinthe, and his little bottle of laudanum, and put a bit of the laudanum on the sugar cube before pouring the absinthe in over it.

_

* * *

Aashiyana had spent most of the night and morning sleeping off both their own activities and the losses she had suffered. Arthur didn't mind, though. He ate that night and let her sleep. He would have to have someone come in with wood slats to put on the frame of the bed so that it would be a lot harder to break it. Arthur had neglected the ties of the bed frame support for too long, apparently._

_ He got a measuring tape from one of the maids, Emma, and measured Aashiyana while she slept for a corset. If she had to wear the clothing of the times then Arthur was going to at least try to make Aashiyana as comfortable as possible. In the mean time, his room was full of chests that had clothes in them from bygone eras. He probably had things still in that room from the days of the Hundred Years War. He never threw anything away. He knew he had at least a set of recent garments and corset that he kept for just such an occasion. It was a lovely dress that he had tucked away. Royal violet with black velvet trimming and black lace, it was. Perhaps it would fit Aashiyana. He hoped it would._

_ While he made his way to the corset maker and dress shops to get another good dress made for Aashiyana as well as some good undergarments, he left Bernard in charge of making sure that Aashiyana had a maid to look after her and make sure she ate something. Afterward he made his way to Parliament to sit in on some discussions of the day._

_ Unbeknownst to him—belatedly reported to him by his beloved fairies and a maid as well as Alfred himself—a certain American had made his way to Arthur's house in hopes of pestering him. A couple of crates of oranges had been sent to Arthur's house, which he had known about arriving before he had left to go to the shops and give the measurements for Aashiyana's clothing, though he thought nothing of the crates. Olivia, the maid, had come in that early afternoon to give Aashiyana a light lunch. Aashiyana didn't really touch the food, feeling much too weak and her stomach too unsettled to eat. "You didn't eat your lunch, mistress," said Olivia in her soft little chiding tone, looking clearly very worried for her charge. _

_ Aashiyana shook her head and sighed, looking to the food. "I'm afraid I have no appetite," said Aashiyana. She looked to Olivia and smiled warmly, however, still looking a good and graceful as ever, whether she was simply wrapped in a sheet or if she was wearing the world's gaudiest looking nightgown that Arthur had kept from the early 1800s. Right then, Aashiyana saw the little note Arthur had left to her on the tea table by the window._

Aashiyana,

I'll be out until after lunch. I don't really care what you wear around the house, but your saari is being cleaned, as well as can be expected, as are your blouse and petticoat. In the mean time I have your luggage in the house and plenty of other clothes you're welcome to wear in the chests in the room.

Arthur

_ "I'm not very accustomed to these fashions," said Aashiyana, ignoring Arthur's note. "Would you help me get dressed—what is your name?"_

_ "Ah—the servants don't often tell guests and whatnot their names, you know," said Olivia, smiling a little. However, despite saying that, she told Aashiyana her name and Aashiyana allowed Olivia to call her by her own name. "Well, it seems there's a corset here as well, Miss Singh," said Olivia, still trying to be somewhat formal, earning a slight look of annoyance from Aashiyana, "So you can wear this dress, I think. It looks like it should fit you."_

_ Aashiyana eyed the dress and the corset, looking very displeased. However, she got into the undergarments required of her and then looked to Olivia questioningly when Olivia told her to turn around and take a hold of the bed post. Aashiyana did as she was told, looking confused. Olivia tugged the ties on the corset and Aashiyana soon found she couldn't breathe. She took shallower and shallower breathes as Olivia attempted to lace the corset properly, though she did note that the corset didn't feel like it fit Aashiyana right. "There's some resistance where there shouldn't be any," said Olivia._

_ "That—th-that can't be—helped," gasped Aashiyana, trying to get some of her breath back. Olivia gave Aashiyana a moment before she put the violet gown onto her and buttoned up the back of the dress. Aashiyana then sat down and Olivia put her hair up into a modest hair style to fit the dress rather than leaving it all down or in a braid over her shoulder. When her hair was done, Aashiyana again looked to the table where the food was set. Olivia walked over to it and then looked to Aashiyana. "I'm not hungry, Oliva."_

_ "We just got some oranges this morning, Miss Singh," said Olivia, "They came over from America. Would you like some juice then? I think it would help."_

_ "No, thank you, Olivia, but I would like some Darjeeling tea. There should be some in the house, I believe. I know I had some sent to Arthur not that long ago," said Aashiyana. Olivia bowed to Aashiyana and walked out quickly to get the tea for her brewed. As she left, there was a loud knock at the door and a voice calling through it loud enough to be heard through most of the house._

_ "HEY! ARTHUR! LET ME IN!" cried the distinctly American voice through the door._

_ Bernard sighed and opened the door to reveal Alfred F. Jones, the embodiment of the United States of America, dressed in a nice suit, a nice, though dusty, coat and a nice tie; however, he also wore a "cowboy" hat on his head that was even more dusty and dirty than his coat was. His short, blonde hair was well barbered; his big blue eyes were now hidden slightly by a pair of spectacles that hooked around his ears so they wouldn't fall off._

_ "My name's Alfred F. Jones," said Alfred brightly to Bernard, "I'm here to see Mr. Kirkland. He's here, right? I saw the name on the gate and thought I got the right house."_

_ "Master Kirkland is out on Parliamentary duties, sir," said Bernard stiffly, "He will be back sometime after lunch. If you would prefer you may wait for him in the sitting room."_

_ "I'd like that," said Alfred, grinning broadly at Bernard. _

_ "Very good, sir," said Bernard, "Then, may I take your hat and coat?" Arthur handed him his dusty hat and his coat, Bernard trying hard not to let the dirt get on the floor by holding the garments out at arm's length and taking them away._

_ "Oh! Did you get the oranges I sent?" asked Alfred, chuckling. "I thought you all would like them. I just got a good crop from a girl in Florida."_

_ "They're being put to good use, sir," said Bernard._

_ Alfred looked around the room, looking at the various things that Arthur had kept over the years and put up as decorations. There was a musket on the wall from the American Revolution that Alfred recognized right off. It was still in good condition and the wood was well oiled. The bayonet looked to be in good condition still. It brought a different look to Alfred's youthful face, his general smile disappearing to a look of nostalgia as Aashiyana appeared at the top of the stairs, looking at him with that pretty smile of hers upon her face. "It seems Master Kirkland is fraught with guests today," said she, smiling a bit more as Alfred turned to look at her, his pale cheeks turning pink._

_ Bernard came back and noted Aashiyana. "Lady Singh," said Bernard, "Are you feeling quite all right?"_

_ "As well as can be expected," said Aashiyana as she walked down the steps slowly. Alfred kept watching as though he were under a spell. _

_ "Mr. Jones," said Bernard, "May I introduce to you Lady Aashiyana Singh, representative of the Colony of India?"_

_ Aashiyana made her way closer to Alfred slowly, her stance as regal as ever. When she was close enough Alfred took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling at her. Bernard decided to leave to make sure that things were in order in the rest of the house and leave the pair of nations introduce themselves to each other. "A pleasure to finally meet you," said Aashiyana. _

_ "Oh? He's talked about me, has he?" Alfred laughed and put his hands into his pockets, his cheeks still quite pink. "You're pretty, Miss Singh," said Alfred, "I bet Arthur's glad to have a woman around the place."_

_ "Oh, I suppose he doesn't mind too terribly much," said Aashiyana, a very small playful glint in her strange eyes, "America."_

_ Alfred chuckled a bit. "Just Alfred will be fine."_

_ "Then, please do call me Aashiyana," said Aashiyana. _

_ "You don't look too well," said Alfred, looking her over a bit, "Problems back home?"_

_ Aashiyana put a handkerchief to her mouth delicately and nodded. "It is—it's difficult to hide in this garment, but yes." She sighed and took the handkerchief away, hiding the blood carefully. "It is a famine; a very bad one. Perhaps a million or more have already passed through me."_

_ Just then Mustardseed chose that moment to make her presence known by fluttering down onto Alfred's head and playing with his blonde hair. Alfred didn't notice at first, frowning deeply as he said to Aashiyana, "I'm very sorry to hear that." Then, his face went white as felt his hair being touched. "I… Is… A ghost!" he cried out and slapped his hands over his head and ducking down like a little kid. "Arthur's house is haunted! Damn him and his scary magic!"_

_ Aashiyana smiled a bit as she caught Mustardseed falling off of Alfred's head and put the little fairy on her shoulder. Mustardseed, for her part, sat and dusted herself off on Aashiyana's shoulder as she looked at Alfred in both amusement and confusion. Aashiyana chuckled softly at Alfred's antics as he looked around fearfully. "It's all right. It was just one of Arthur's fairies."_

_ "You believe in those things too?" asked Alfred as he straightened up. Then, he leaned into her and whispered conspiratorially, "Arthur's house is scary, isn't it?"_

_ "I only believe in what I see and feel," said Aashiyana, laughing softly, "The gods above bless the little creatures here, I believe."_

_ Alfred laughed a little and straightened his hair. "I don't know about 'gods', Aashiyana," said he, "but whatever you like." Then, as though as an afterthought, Alfred snapped his fingers and laughed. "Where are my manners? Really. Come! We should sit ourselves in the sitting room or else we might end up being in the way of the help around here." He looked around for the proper room and then took her hand gently and walked with her over to the sitting room. _

_ Olivia appeared at the top of the stairs with the tray of tea in her hands. "Ah! Miss Singh, would you prefer your tea in the sitting room, then?"_

_ "Yes, if you would be so kind, Olivia," said Aashiyana as she was tugged away into the sitting room, smiling at Alfred's youthful demeanor and playful attitude. _

_ Alfred, as soon as he got into the sitting room, went over to a set of toy soldiers that looked old. Once again he held a look of nostalgia to his blue eyes as he crouched down and poked them gingerly before picking one up and smiling wistfully. "He did say he had a set himself," he muttered. _

_ "I hear you have become a democracy," said Aashiyana softly._

_ "Representative republic," corrected Alfred without looking away from the toy soldiers. He resembled a bit of a big kid as he made the soldier march on the little table the set stood on. "We elect people to go into the governmental office that will represent the people that they have been elected to represent. Like us, those elected officials must reflect the people. If they don't do their job, the people vote them out of office and vote someone else in." Then, with a strange look in his face, he put the soldier back into place and stood away from the toy set. "Sometimes it can get hectic, but I think it's worth it for the freedom it gives the people. The constitution my boys made and our bill of rights tell the government what it can't do and what it can't take away from the people. I think that's important."_

_ He smiled a bit as he sat down across from Aashiyana and then frowned faintly as he noticed that she looked a bit more pale than before, her handkerchief up to her mouth again. "You really don't look that well, Aashiyana. I think you ought to lie down."_

_ Aashiyana waved him off and leaned back into the sofa she sat on. "I have slept half the day and then some," said she, "And this thing isn't helping either." She gestured to her midsection where she knocked a bit on the hard whalebone boning of the corset._

_ "I don't understand the fashion, myself," said Alfred, nodding to her, "But, as I understand it, the ladies like how it makes them look. Personally, I prefer women more natural looking."_

_ "You would enjoy India, then," said Aashiyana, smiling at Alfred._

_ "If the girls look like you, then I expect I would," said Alfred, a playful smile on his lips._

_ Aashiyana laughed softly as she stood up. "Many of my women wear what is called a saari. It is a colorful long length of cloth, embroidered and dyed, that is wrapped around the body in a very particular fashion; under which they wear a short blouse and a petticoat." As she spoke she gestured with her hands in graceful motions what she was saying. "It's free and it allows you to move as you wish," said Aashiyana as she gracefully made motions with hand hands again as though she were going to try to dance, "and allows one to dance to their heart's content."_

_ Alfred's cheeks flushed pink again as he watched her with an appreciative gaze. He smiled at her. "That reminds me a bit of the natives back home. There are some really pretty women among the various tribes."_

_ Aashiyana smiled as she sat down on the sofa. "I would show you the dancing, but I'm afraid that's impossible in this dress." Her right hand delicately made motions in front of her, rolling like water, the henna painted on her fingers alive. "Every gesture, every motion," she pulled the hand to her and placed it, balled, against her heart and brought her other hand up, "tells a story. Every movement has meaning to it."_

_ Alfred's smile was gentle as he gazed at her through those spectacles of his. "Don't let the society drown it out."_

_ She lowered her arms and gave him a confident look as she sat regally once again. "Nothing, not even the Queen herself nor the hand of Britain, can silence me."_

_ Alfred continued to gaze her gently, smiling a little. "Good," he said, "I don't like it when peoples like yourself are silenced." He then noticed that Aashiyana put the handkerchief up to her mouth again, wincing a bit more than she had before. "Do you need help to the bathroom or whatever they have here?"_

_ "No, I'll be all right. I will endure it," said Aashiyana softly, "The only reason I am here was to speak to my 'Empress' face to face. Thankfully, she agreed to send my children aid, but it does not go quickly. I'm afraid it might be months before I am well again."_

_ Alfred smiled more as he gazed at her appreciatively. "Texas keeps telling me that women are stronger and hardier than men will be any day. I think I am beginning to see that very clearly."_

_ When Arthur walked into his house he had not known Alfred was there, of course. He walked in as he would any other day. Bernard greeted him and took his hat, cane and coat and took them away as he said, "A Mr. Alfred F. Jones is waiting for you in the sitting room."_

_ Arthur groaned slightly and put a hand to his face. He turned for the sitting room and found Alfred standing up to greet him, that silly grin of his spread across his face. He was a bit older than Arthur had seen of him last time; he was taller and broader across his shoulders. He also sported glasses which he didn't have back when Arthur had seen him last. He had a look in his face and eyes that wasn't there before also; he had the look of a nation. Arthur knew that Alfred had a civil war that he clearly was still recovering from somewhat. _

_ "What are you doing here?" asked Arthur with some annoyance as he eyed the younger, though much taller, nation._

_ Alfred looked at him innocently, his blue eyes bigger and rounder to look more child-like. "I'm visiting my big brother, of course. Can't I do that?"_

_ Arthur glared at him and looked away. "You said I'm not your big brother anymore, so don't call me that."_

_ "Aw! Come on! I just didn't want you to treat me like a kid anymore, Arthur!" Alfred whined. "Besides, my people were being shoved under your king's boot! They got tired of it and snapped and so did I! It doesn't mean you're any less my big brother!"_

_ Arthur grunted and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyeing Alfred over. "I suppose you'll want to stay over a while, then? Well, forget it! I have company enough as it is!"_

_ "Yeah! And she's really pretty," said Alfred, grinning cheekily at Arthur. _

_ Arthur glared dangerously, "You have enough girls." Aashiyana chose that moment to stand up and move out from behind Alfred. Arthur stared at her. She was a vision of beauty in the royal violet satin, black velvet and black lace. _

_ Alfred grinned deviously and put his hands in his pockets. "I know, I just love annoying you."_

_ Arthur flicked him a look of warning before flushing fully as he gazed at Aashiyana with a far gentler look. "You look ravishing, Aashiyana," he said, breathless from the sight of her._

_ Olivia joined them as she came into the sitting room with the tea tray and a much bigger pot to accommodate everyone. She put down three cups and saucers and poured the tea as Arthur continued to stare at Aashiyana. Meanwhile, Alfred grinned at Olivia, making her cheeks turn red from his clear attention toward her. Arthur caught the look and shot Alfred a warning glance again._

_ Alfred ignored it. "What's your name?" he asked Olivia._

_ "Ah—my name is Olivia," stammered Olivia softly._

_ Alfred chuckled. "That's a nice name. My name is Alfred. It's nice to meet you." He moved to offer a hand to her and she moved to take it, though she shrank away when she saw the annoyed look on Arthur's face. "Thanks for the tea, by the way," said Alfred, clearly accustomed to ignoring Arthur._

_ "Alfred, stop flirting with the help," Arthur snapped at Alfred. Alfred finally acknowledged Arthur and pouted a bit as Olivia quietly bobbed to them and scurried away like a mouse. Aashiyana finally sat down and picked up her tea, drinking it slowly. Arthur sat down for some tea, putting some sugar into his as Alfred sat down again near Aashiyana. Again, Arthur began to resemble a territorial lion trying to warn off another male from his female. And, again, Alfred paid him little attention._

_ Alfred made a bit of an odd face at the tea as he sipped it, eliciting a small smile from Aashiyana. "I think I've become too used to coffee," said Alfred._

_ "It's your own fault," muttered Arthur._

_ "Not totally," Alfred shot back._

_ Arthur shook his head and looked to Aashiyana gently once more. "Is the tea helping, Aashiyana?"_

_ "A little bit," said Aashiyana softly, her voice a bit clearer. Then, she added in Hindi, "_A lot more than this awful garment_."_

_ Arthur spoke in Hindi as well, looking annoyed; their speaking in a foreign tongue forcing a bit of a confused look from Alfred, "_I did leave a note, you know. I told you that you could wear whatever you wanted while in my house. You didn't have to dig out that old corset and gown._" He sighed and then sipped his tea a little. "_I went and put in an order for a corset to be made for you. That should at least be marginally more comfortable for you._"_

_ "_If I am to make an impression on my 'Empress', then I might as well acclimate myself to this torture sooner than later_," said Aashiyana, looking irritated._

_ "_As I understand it, the only torture is in an ill-fitting corset, or one too tightly laced_," said Arthur, "_That's why I'm having one made for you._"_

_ Aashiyana smiled in a manner that was not entirely pleasant. She spoke in English this time, "Oh? No torture at all? Well, why don't you have a go at it then?"_

_ Arthur ignored her last comment and said in English, "I said that I've only heard that. I wouldn't have a clue, honestly."_

_ "In any case, I shan't cause you anymore embarrassment if I am to go walking with you in public," said Aashiyana, smiling a little. Then, she went silent, her face souring._

_ It was then that Arthur noticed Aashiyana pulling her cup away from her lips, her skin paler than it should be. And then, he saw the blood ooze down from her mouth and chin._


	4. Chapter Four

_A/N: : D I'm a real bonehead. Seriously, I completely forgot to upload the second chapter of this story onto after I was done fiddling with it in the document manager. I guess I got distracted or something. It's not hard to do with me. I get distracted easily. oAo Immediate Music is love. 3_

_Chapter Four_

_ Aashiyana quickly put the handkerchief to her mouth, her brow knitting tightly. Arthur shot to his feet as Alfred leaped to his and made it to her side quickly. Arthur glowered at Alfred a moment before remembering that Aashiyana came first. "We need to get her to the bath upstairs," said Arthur quickly. Alfred wasted no time. He lifted Aashiyana easily into his strong arms and took the steps two at a time to the second floor as Arthur hurried up behind him to direct him. _

_ "She's got a bad fever, Arthur," said Alfred, "I can feel it through this dress of her."_

_ "I know. It comes with the fits," said Arthur as he dashed in front of Alfred and opened the door to the bathroom. Alfred placed her on the tile floor and Arthur came in from behind him after closing the door to unbutton her dress on the back and then pull the gown from her quickly, handing it to Alfred. Alfred placed it on a chair, watching from a small distance as Arthur untied the laces of the corset. Aashiyana's sudden intake of air was loud, making both men wince at the painful sound. For a moment it seemed that was all she needed, a relief from the corset so she could breathe._

_ And then the blood came._

_ She coughed violently, jerking as her skin turned ash colored while blood poured from her mouth onto the floor. Arthur pulled her hair from her face and rubbed her back, trying to comfort her as well as he could. Alfred, for every atrocity he had seen in both the past and in recent years, had never seen so much blood come from a nation. Not even that amount had come from him during the War Between the States when his stomach was split open thanks to the rift between his north and south and lives he lost on both sides._

_ Arthur whispered to Aashiyana is calming Hindi, "_It's all right. Just let them go._" Even as he said that he knew it wasn't all right, but, being the gentleman and her sovereign, he couldn't just say "You're in trouble. You might die." That was unthinkable! He couldn't imagine India dying out utterly. To do so was a very lonely prospect. _

_ Looking at Aashiyana he could feel that her weight had dropped once again. No more did she feel as soft as she did even the night before. Now, Arthur could feel her ribs sticking out. He could feel her hip bones starting to jut out. What if he did lose India? The thought came to him and made his insides freeze. _

_ Slowly, she looked up at Alfred and tried her best to smile at him, though Alfred was already very white in his face, his blue eyes staring at her in fear of her life. Without Arthur having to tell him, Alfred grabbed a towel and poured water on it from the pitcher next to the wash basin. He knelt down to Aashiyana carefully and started wiping her face. Aashiyana leaned into the touch desperately, making a small noise as she did so. For a moment, Arthur's jealousy made him want to punch Alfred and knock him away from Aashiyana, but he stifled it and settled on glowering at the younger nation._

_ Arthur wrapped his arms around Aashiyana to help her sit up some, though she didn't seem inclined to move away from the wetted towel in Alfred's hands. Alfred swallowed and smiled just a little for Aashiyana, stroking her hair from her face. "You'll be all right," he said, though his tone wasn't nearly as hopeful as he looked, "As you said, you're getting help." Then, Arthur found himself on the receiving end of one of the sharpest looks Alfred had ever given him. The only time when he had received a similar look was when Alfred confronted him and yelled at him for drafting his own twin, the embodiment of Canada, Matthew Williams, into the British military to fight against the Americans. "She is getting help, isn't she?" _

_ "Of course she is," snapped Arthur, "It will just take a while to get there. You can't just snap your fingers and then make food appear in India. Not even I can do that and I'm the one who can perform magic. You can't make something from nothing."_

_ Alfred relaxed a little and continued to stroke Aashiyana's hair. Arthur, suddenly with a bad feeling in his stomach, looked on at the desperate shape Aashiyana was in. He ignored the feeling in lieu of comforting her for the moment. "Right now what she needs is to eat something. Her people may be starving, but she can at least try to get something in her to combat some of this leeching that's occurring."_

_ "Oranges should help some," said Alfred. _

_ "Or lemons or limes," said Arthur absently._

_ Aashiyana didn't seem to register anything of what they were saying. She trembled as she tried her best to keep herself from falling over outright into the blood that was slowly draining into the drain under the tub. Alfred picked her up into his arms and stood up, looking to Arthur. "Where is her room?"_

_ Arthur, instead of taking her to her room where her luggage still sat, took her to his room instead where the bed was still in poor shape and the sheets were strewn about. Alfred took one look at them and then raised his eyebrows at Arthur. "What happened here?"_

_ "I would rather not talk about it," mumbled Arthur. "Set her on the bed and then get one of the maids to bring up a peeled orange." Alfred did as he was told and then walked out, leaving Arthur with Aashiyana. Arthur walked over and got on the bed next to Aashiyana, looking at her worriedly. She had pushed herself too far; the journey to England, the night they spent together, the corset, it all counted against her in very big, very bad ways. Arthur rolled his sleeves to the elbow and took his tie and collar off; tossing them aside for the added freedom he needed to keep her comfortable. _

_ Aashiyana's head rolled to the side, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she seemed to be going unconscious. Arthur gently slapped her cheeks and turned her face toward him. "Aashiyana," he said, "Aashiyana, wake up! Don't go to sleep!" _

_ For the moment she seemed to wake as he held her head in his warm, though shaking hands. He sighed in relief as she looked up at him with those black and green eyes of hers, dimly registering his presence. "Please stay awake," he whispered; his voice so soft and frightened that it sounded more like a child's plea than something from a grown man. Carefully, he lifted her in his arms and sat down with her against his side, holding her upright. For a moment it seemed she would be all right. Then, her head thumped very gently against his chest and he couldn't feel her breathing anymore._

_ Arthur's heart stopped. Shaking slightly, he looked down at her with wide, fearful green eyes and saw her eyes closed and her face relaxed. She looked like she was sleeping, but he couldn't feel her breathing at all. He patted her cheek, trembling worse. "Aashiyana? Aashiyana?" Her head only moved when he touched it, lolling side to side and against his chest with every motion, but there was no life in it. Panicking, Arthur pushed her down onto her back and laid his head on her heart. There was nothing. _

_ Alfred came in, though Arthur was only dimly aware of it as he sat up and hit Aashiyana over her heart to try to make it start again. Arthur's face was white, as white as the sheets beneath him and Aashiyana. Alfred put the oranges down and almost shoved Arthur aside to grab Aashiyana's legs and push them into her body. He did that a few times before moving over her and breathing air into her mouth. Arthur jumped to his feet and hurried to the door, shouting out "Get a doctor! Someone get a doctor!"_

_ Alfred continued to pump Aashiyana's legs against her before moving back to her mouth and breathing into her. Then, he stopped and checked her pulse. He sighed in relief, causing Arthur to practically launch himself from the door over to them both. "Is there a pulse?" asked Arthur frantically._

_ "Yeah," said Alfred, smiling a bit at Aashiyana, "Yeah, there is. It's very faint, though. It's getting better though." Slowly, he wiped the blood from his mouth that had come from hers with the back of his hand._

_ Aashiyana coughed so hard it made her body arch off the bed. She rolled onto her side and continued trying to breathe as Arthur rubbed her side gently. Her breathing was very vocal, very painful to hear. She rolled onto her back again and opened her eyes to look at them both. The ring of unnaturally bright green was thicker and brighter than ever. Arthur sighed and smiled a little, stroking her cheek. "There's a good girl," he said softly. Then, he lifted her up against him again and sat back against the bed frame as Alfred picked the bowl of orange pieces and handed them to Arthur._

_ "Get a cold cloth and bring it here, Alfred," said Arthur as he set the bowl against his leg. Aashiyana nuzzled close against him, desperate to feel his warmth, his power and his money as though she could somehow absorb it into her just by touching him. He could feel her desperation like a physical force and it hurt to feel it. _

_ Alfred brought the cold cloth to Arthur and Arthur put it to Aashiyana's neck to cool her feverish blood. Carefully, Arthur put a piece of orange to her lips, nudging her mouth open with it. "Try it, Rani," he said softly. The word—"queen" in Hindi, spoken only by the Maharaja—seemed to startle her a little. Slowly, she accepted the piece given to her by Arthur. Arthur smiled gently and kissed her forehead. "_Slowly_," he said in Hindi, "_Suck on it and chew it slowly. Citrus is best appreciated that way._"_

_ Slowly, ever so slowly, she ate the pieces of orange that Arthur fed her. In a way it was almost erotic how he brought up each piece to feed her and she accepted it, her tongue flicking out before she took the pieces into her mouth. It made Alfred's cheeks flush as he watched. "Should… should I leave you two alone?" asked Alfred._

_ Arthur didn't seem to hear him or register what he said. Arthur looked up at Alfred and asked. "What did you ask?" Alfred, embarrassed, looked off, though there was a small mischievous grin on his face. Arthur put the question and the look on Alfred's flushed face together and kicked Alfred on the shin. "You rotten bastard! Stop thinking thoughts like that!"_

_ Alfred laughed and rubbed his shin a moment before moving away to the door. There, he leaned on the frame and watched them with a small smile on his face. Arthur took the wet towel from Aashiyana's neck and handed it to Alfred to refresh. When Alfred left the room, thunder rolled overhead. Arthur looked to the window, the dark clouds roiling above and lightning flashing quickly. The room looked dark from the cloud cover as rain pummeled the window. "Looks as though a storm has come up," he said softly, stroking Aashiyana's loosened hair, "But that's all right. I like the rain." _

_ Another much louder crash of thunder made Aashiyana jump against Arthur. Alfred walked in then and closed the door, his face white as a ghost and his face fearful. Arthur eyed him with mild annoyance. "Don't be stupid, Alfred. You get worse weather back in your home than we do here."_

_ "I know," said Alfred, getting some bearing on his fear. He laughed a little nervously as he sat down on the bed, handing the wetted cloth to Arthur. Arthur took it and put it around Aashiyana's neck carefully and held it in place. "That doesn't mean it makes it any easier to hear thunder, you know."_

_ "You're such a child," Arthur chided. He was reminded of when Alfred was a little boy and would crawl into bed with him when the storms would come overhead. Now, Alfred was no longer a little boy, though sometimes he seemed to act like he still was._

_ "Am not," said Alfred. Another clap of thunder made Alfred jump again, putting a smug smirk on Arthur's face to prove Alfred wrong._

_ Aashiyana moved away from Arthur to sit up. Arthur pulled a blanket up and wrapped it around her shoulders as Alfred pushed the wet cloth back around Aashiyana's neck. "Hey, you have to keep this around your neck, Aashiyana," he said softly._

_ "Thank you," said Aashiyana softly, shivering just a bit from the chill of the room._

_ "Further west this sort of weather brings on tornados," said Alfred, "I've seen the damage and it's not pretty."_

_ "Much… of my country is… prone to flooding," said Aashiyana softly._

_ "Yeah, we get that too," said Alfred, smiling at her._

_ Aashiyana pulled the cloth from her neck and the blanket from her shoulders to lay down. Arthur frowned faintly as he watched her. "Aashiyana?"_

_ "I'll be fine," she said in a quiet voice, "I'm just… very tired… and a little cold."_

_ Arthur lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. He gazed gently into her eyes as he stroked her cheek. "Does this help?"_

_ "A little."_

_ Alfred, as if on cue, lay down behind Aashiyana and wrapped his arms around her as well, jumping again as thunder crashed overhead. He nuzzled into her hair, into the back of her neck, making her move a little between them both. Arthur glowered at Alfred, but looked away when he saw that Aashiyana's shivering had stopped. "That's better," she said. Another thunder clap made her twitch and whimper, however._

_ Slowly her body warmed with their combined heat. Arthur hummed softly various tunes to calm both Aashiyana and Alfred; tunes he had learned from his older brothers Wales, Scotland and Ireland. It seemed to calm them both as the storm moved overhead, the noises from the sky and the rain growing lighter and lighter. Arthur very gently rubbed Aashiyana on her stomach to soothe her as Alfred unhooked his spectacles from his ears and put them on the bedside table. Aashiyana took hold of one of their hands with each of her own and held them to her as she kissed their foreheads. _

_ As Arthur watched, she seemed to be more drawn to Alfred than him, as though Alfred was more appealing to her. She sniffed at him, the smell of clean air and freshly turned earth, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and oiled leather was strong on Alfred. Even Arthur could smell it. Arthur, however, smelled more of cologne and pomade than anything else. For a moment he wondered if he washed all that off what he might smell like to Aashiyana. Would she be just as drawn to him as she seemed to be to Alfred?_

_ Aashiyana turned toward Alfred, making Arthur suddenly feel left out. He leaned closer to her and nuzzled into the back of her neck, getting her attention. She turned slowly to face Arthur, her cheeks faintly flushed. Alfred stared at her, his cheeks becoming pinker as he watched her lay back against the pillow under their heads as though to take in the two of them and savor it. _

_ She smiled faintly, knowingly, as though she knew she was creating a tension between the two men on either side of her. It was the sort of look that made both men feel as though a challenge were being set before them. "And what is so amusing, Aashiyana?" asked Arthur, eyeing her with more heat than he held before._

_ "She's probably smiling because she's managed to keep me in the room," said Alfred, smirking at Arthur, "But then, of course, I'm special."_

_ "Only in your own head," said Arthur, snorting in derision._

_ Aashiyana chuckled softly at their bantering. "I am enjoying both of you, actually. To tell the truth, I am enjoying you both a lot. You both hold very calming scents to me."_

_ "Do I?" asked Arthur._

_ "Yes. I never lie." Then, Aashiyana smiled at him in a very gentle way. "Unfortunately, you cover it with cologne and pomade, but it is still calming."_

_ "I'm glad my smell is so calming to you," said Alfred, grinning broadly at her._

_ "How are you feeling?" asked Arthur; carefully, he stroked her cheek as though afraid she might break at more contact._

_ "As well as can be expected," she said in a softer, lower voice. It sent a strange sensation into Arthur, making his heart beat just a little quicker. Slowly, he brought his hand down over her neck; his fingers trailed over her skin until he slowly rubbed her stomach again. She smiled at him again and Arthur felt his cheeks heat. In response, she writhed just a little between them, the motions slow, deliberate, like water flowing over rocks. Alfred looked at her with fascination as Arthur leaned in and kissed her, losing just a little of his gentility. Her mouth opened to him and he could still taste the sharp, tangy taste of the orange in her inviting mouth. Arthur groaned low in his throat as he ran his tongue languidly against hers. _

_ Aashiyana gripped Alfred's hand and held him in place as Arthur felt him start to leave them alone. Arthur, for a moment, started to pull away, but she pulled him back as well. Her kiss was mind-blowing, the smell of her intoxicating. It was like the night in India when he was trying to get to sleep, but couldn't. Instead of oppressing heat from the weather, he had a slowly burning heat on one side of him that seemed to want the pair of them to make even more heat for her._

_ "You should rest, Aashiyana," said Arthur, his breath warm against her lips. _

_ "You don't want me to rest," said Aashiyana, her eyes glowing to life. Again, Arthur kissed her with even less gentility than he had before, growing more possessive as he moved his tongue against hers. _

_ Alfred moved closer to Aashiyana's ear and whispered, "I'll just leave you two alone." Arthur waved his hand dismissively at Alfred, but barely acknowledged his presence. Aashiyana, once again, pulled Alfred closer. Alfred, as though drawn to her as though she were a fire, slowly leaned into her and kissed her shoulder, pulling the chemise from her to reveal more of her skin to him as he peppered kisses to her neck and ear. Aashiyana moaned softly and arched between them; her hands coming up to snake into each man's hair and grip it with a gentle force._

_ Arthur's hand came up under her chemise and pushed the garment up to her breasts. He cupped one of her breasts and rubbed it, teasing the peak of it with his thumb. Alfred nipped her earlobe and suckled at it, he kissed and swirled his tongue against her neck just under the ear. His hand moved to her hip and slid over her rear where he rubbed and fondled her in slow, deliberate motions. Aashiyana moaned in approval, panting softly as she arched again. _

_ Arthur moved his lips over her neck, suckling at her skin as he made his way to the breast he had been teasing and replaced his thumb with his mouth. The grip in his hair grew stronger as she breathed a little heavier, her heart thumping a bit harder in her chest. Alfred turned her face toward him and kissed her. His kiss was less possessive than Arthur's; like his hand on her rear his tongue moved against hers in ways that elicited more heat from her body. Alfred groaned as Aashiyana responded with more enthusiasm, though that might have been because Arthur was teasing her between her legs with his fingers as he occupied his mouth with her breasts._

_ Arthur flicked a sharp look at Alfred as Alfred's much bigger body seemed to pull Aashiyana toward him, though her hips moved against Arthur's hand as he continued to rub her. He pressed his fingers into her, feeling her heat even more, and thrust his fingers slowly as he watched her writhe. She was his and there was nothing—not even if Alfred pleased her more than Arthur—that would change it!_

_ Alfred's free hand moved from her rear, up her side to her breast where he rubbed her and made her arch into him and rub against him. Aashiyana broke away from Alfred's mouth to gasp softly as Arthur pumped his fingers a bit deeper into her. She looked drunk on sensation. It was a beautiful expression on her face. It was a deeply erotic expression that made his blood feel like it was on fire just looking at her. "Do you like that, Rani?" he asked. Alfred, meanwhile, suckled at the vein her in neck, his eyes closed as he too looked drunk on the sensations of being near Aashiyana._

_ Aashiyana practically purred as she gazed up at him with those strange eyes of hers that sucked him in and never seemed to let go of him. "Yes, my Maharaja," said she as she pressed her hips more into his teasing hand, moaning again._

_ Arthur pulled her undergarments from her one piece at a time as Alfred gently bit her on the curve of her shoulder and neck. She cried out softly in approval and pressed her rear against him. He groaned loudly and rubbed himself against her, her body taut and trembling, needy. Arthur pulled his shirt off and his suspenders, his trousers following closely and settled back in front of Aashiyana as Alfred pulled away finally to do similar. Aashiyana quickly moved more toward Arthur and kissed him hungrily, groaning loudly. Alfred laid back behind her and groaned as she rubbed against him with her rear once more, this time feeling fully the effect she had on Alfred. In response Alfred bit the back of her neck and pressed his hips against her, making Aashiyana cry out loud enough that the maids listening at the door jumped back and fanned themselves._

_ Arthur growled loudly, possessively, as he pressed a leg between hers. She thrust her hips on him, desperate for him, her eyes half-lidded as she looked to him for more. He pressed himself into her heat and groaned loudly as he thrust into her, watching her need grow with each motion he made. For a few moments she seemed to forget Alfred was even present as she clung to Arthur as he kept a fair pace with her, his eyes molten green. "_Do you like that, Rani?_" he asked in Hindi._

_ Aashiyana cried out louder, gripping herself to Arthur, her nails biting into his back. Alfred reached down and pulled her leg up off of Arthur's hip and pushed it up a bit to change the angle for her. The resulting cry from Aashiyana was beautiful, Arthur taking the leg and lifting it further as he thrust faster into her. Alfred then moved back to her neck and bit her gently again, making her moan and whine alternately. _

_ Arthur noted dimly that she looked a bit uncomfortable with the angle so he dropped her leg and pulled her legs around his hips so he was closer against her as he quickened his pace a bit more, gripping her hair at the back of her head; remembering how she begged him for such passionate treatment. Alfred, uncertain of how to enter into this strange situation, kept himself busy with licking her skin at her neck, feeling her quick pulse, and then moving down over her shoulder. He kissed her waist which was bruising from the corset, and flicked his tongue there as though to make it better with just him doing that. _

_ "_Do you like that, Rani?_" he asked again, his voice as hot as his eyes._

_ Aashiyana gasped and dug her nails more into his back, nodding a bit against the restraining, possessive lock his hand held in her hair. "_Yes! Yes! Please! I need more!_" she begged. Not wanting to disappoint her, Arthur moved savagely into her body, making her voice echo off the walls with how loud her cries were._

_ Arthur spoke in Hindi once again, his tone as aggressive as his words. "_You're mine, Rani. I'm your Raja and you belong to me!_"_

_ Alfred watched, but even though he was simply watching the intensity of the pair's coupling was so much that Alfred felt he was a part of it no less; his heart in his throat and throbbing as he watched the marks where Arthur's teeth made contact with her skin, her nails draw blood from Arthur's skin. Then, all at once, Aashiyana screamed. Her body jerked slightly against Arthur as he let out a loud growl, following her into ecstasy. As if Aashiyana weren't close enough to him to be satisfactory, Arthur pulled her closer against his body and held her there as they slowed down together._

_ Dimly, Arthur was aware of Alfred's presence still behind Aashiyana, still sporting a very stiff manhood, and still looking very left out. It served him right, the ungrateful child! Aashiyana was his and America was not going to get a hand on her any time soon. Alfred stood up away from Aashiyana as Arthur nuzzled into her ear. Arthur watched as Alfred attempted to calm himself enough to get dressed. Arthur wanted to laugh at the poor fellow, but felt the damage done was enough. _

_ When Alfred left, whistling cheerfully as always, Arthur grumbled finally as he voiced what he had been keeping in. "I wonder why that idiot stuck around."_

_ "Is it that troubling?" asked Aashiyana softly, her eyes drowsy. _

_ Arthur's cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red as he looked away from Aashiyana's gaze. "As long as he doesn't try to have a go with you again," he said, mumbling almost, "I expect he learned some foul habits from that idiot France." Of course, there was also the fact that Alfred also had over forty women in his State Girls to please and practice with as well, but Arthur didn't mention it. _

_ Alfred was a whore by occupation, because he made a promise to the original Colony Girls that if they would not fight over him he would do whatever they wanted of him; which carried on to the states that got added to the union. Francis, meanwhile, was a whore because he simply loved having sex with anything pretty and pliable, be it man or woman, though he seemed to very strongly to gravitate toward the fairer sex. He wasn't always so. Arthur could remember Francis Bonnefoy used to be less prone toward such behavior. When Jeanne died Arthur knew something had broken inside Francis' heart and later there was that man, the Marquis de Sade that Francis tended to keep time with._

_ Aashiyana looked drowsily at Arthur, bringing a small smile from his face. "I need to remember to keep my head about me when I'm with you. You can't afford to have many other bouts of passion like this with me. Not in the shape you are in."_

_ "It is twice you have lain with me," said Aashiyana, her voice thick. She yawned and covered her mouth. _

_ "Yes, and you looked positively awful before. You're getting so thin," said Arthur, shaking his head, "The famine is leeching from you so very quickly; ever so much as it does your people."_

_ "I know," said Aashiyana softly, "It is not my first famine. However, even I need a distraction. I need to feel the way you make me feel so that I may continue to feel strong and not let the weariness overtake me." Arthur moved closer and kissed her gently as she chuckled._

_ "What?"_

_ "It was just a thought," said Aashiyana. She looked to his quirked thick eyebrow and chuckled, her smile impish. "If you are so afraid of harming me with your attention," said Aashiyana as she ran her fingers over his lips in a very suggestive fashion, her voice dropping even more, "There are other ways you may bow down and worship this Rani."_

_ Arthur smirked a bit. "Indeed there are," he said against her fingers. She chuckled again and leaned closer to him, kissing him. Soon Aashiyana fell asleep in Arthur's arms, snuggled against his warm body. As he started to drift off he heard a small gasp from down the hallway where one of the guest rooms was. Alfred had picked off little Olivia and was making her gasp and tremble as his mouth pleased her under her skirt. Arthur sighed and shook his head, nuzzling into his India until sleep overcame him as well._


	5. Chapter Five

_A/N: o.o Voltaire concerts in Battleon! If you're on Adventure Quest Worlds GO NOW BEFORE VOLTAIRE GOES AWAY! THERE IS AN AWESOME CONCERT THERE EVERY HOUR ON THE HOUR!_

_Enough CAPS Lock abuse… ._

_Chapter Five_

"And what progress has been made on the case, Sir Arthur?" asked Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Her cold gaze was leveled on Arthur, scrutinizing him like she did everyone else. As great a queen she was, that coldness that she held, that frozen exterior, made it hard for him to really relish too willingly the power she gave him as a nation. It was all fine and good until he had to actually look her in those cold eyes and talk to her.

"Your Majesty," said Arthur, searching his addled brain for more diplomatic words than what he wanted to say. His mind was fuzzy still from waking up to the sound of his butler checking in on him that late morning. Apparently Arthur had been sleeping for an entire day and almost half the next. Well, he did feel a little better with some actual sleep, but he knew that wouldn't last; not with juggling his dear queen's orders and his duties as the representative of the empire. "My Queen, why have you placed me on this case? Surely you must know that even if I have lived for more than a thousand years I still don't know a thing about being a detective. I have been many things, but I am not a detective by any definition."

"You are highly intelligent with a great deal of experience in observing people," said Victoria, her gaze boring into his. "You also are fair in your proficiency in the magical arts as well as having an ability to see and feel that which others can not."

"I haven't done magic in a long time, Your Majesty. At best I could probably turn a rock into a crystal. I was never that good at it, I hope you understand," said Arthur. "As for my ability to see things that aren't there… My Queen, you must understand that they really are there and that everyone else is simply closed off to seeing them." He couldn't mention the unicorn. He simply could not mention that he might be losing his ability to see the fairies and unicorns, the short, squat gnomes and the tree elves with hair like leaves and branches and skin like bark.

"And with the openness you have in combination with your intellect you would be ideal in trying to find this murderer," said Victoria. "I will not rescind my order to you to aid the detectives in flushing the madman out."

Arthur already figured on that answer. He bowed to her and kept his eyes to the floor obediently. "As you wish, Your Highness." When he was dismissed he was ushered out of the palace to his awaiting carriage. That was when he had a strange feeling in his bones, stranger than anything he had felt in a long time. He felt as though someone were watching him very closely with intent, though what the intent was he couldn't ascertain. It was like he was a butterfly pinned to a board for observation; and it was observation that Arthur felt, though far more intense than that of a bystander.

"Something the matter, sir?" asked the driver from his perch. Arthur looked up to him, blinking a moment as his good sense took back over.

"No," said Arthur, frowning at the driver, "Sorry, you must have been recently hired. I don't recall you."

"Bill's sick. I am a temporary driver for you, sir," said the driver, tipping his cap to Arthur. "Apologies if I've startled you. I don't blame you if you think something ill of me what with what's been happening 'round abouts."

Arthur shook his head and got into the carriage. "It is fine, driver," he said, "Just take me back to my home."

"Very good, sir, I'll do that," said the driver. The driver cracked his reigns and the carriage rolled on through the palace gates out onto the street. Arthur still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him intensely even as he was inside a moving carriage. Once home he found Bernard and sat down with him in the sitting room for a light lunch upon Bernard's insistence that Arthur eat something while he was present.

Arthur could only stomach a little at a time, his stomach making him feel ill as new sustenance was fed into it. Bernard, as stern as ever, watched him as he polished Arthur's old musket and bayonet. "Bill was sick today?" asked Arthur. "The driver of my carriage, I mean."

"Unfortunately, sir," said Bernard, "He was vomiting and had a fever. I sent a doctor to him in your stead yesterday since you seemed to be catching up on your rest."

"That's good of you, Bernard," said Arthur, eating a little of his soup slowly. "And what of the temporary coachman I have now?"

"Mr. Farrow was recommended by Mr. Pitch, Master Kirkland," said Bernard.

"I see," said Arthur.

"Do you believe ill of Mr. Farrow, Master Kirkland?" asked Bernard, looking to him finally from the musket.

Arthur thought about it a moment and then shook his head. He knew the madman had taken notice of him, but to go out of his way just to get close to him? It made little sense to him. "No, I think my lack of sleep is making me daft," said Arthur. Bernard refrained from further comment as he continued cleaning and polishing the gun and then put it up to his shoulder, aiming at the wall.

"A very fine weapon it is, sir," said Bernard.

"Yes, it is," said Arthur.

"Your little brother Alfred," said Bernard slowly, "made mention when he was here that he had a musket himself and the toy soldiers you keep he was fascinated in."

"He's not my little brother," said Arthur, poking at his soup a bit and swirling his spoon around in it.

"I would say he continues to be so, Master Kirkland. If you did not feel such attachment toward him and he toward you then you both would not be so keen to see each other ever again," said Bernard. "Siblings rival, they fight for dominance as do everything else in the world. The older thinks he knows what's best and the younger always thinks he knows better. It is the way of things. Our countries, our people, have never been separate, Master Kirkland; just as you both have never been wholly separate from one another."

Arthur continued to swirl his spoon in his soup so he didn't have to look at Bernard. He knew he was right; he just didn't want to admit to it. However, Arthur supposed that perhaps the bigger betrayal between them had not been Alfred breaking away from him, but Arthur using Alfred's twin brother Matthew Williams, the personification of Canada, against him; turning Matt into a British soldier against Alfred's continentals. It had been a sudden decision on his part, an effort to make Alfred be more reasonable. Instead of the desired result, however, it made Alfred furious. Now that he remembered it, Alfred had favored his right side during one conflict that Arthur had taken an active part in instead of staying back with the other higher ranking officers to plan out strategy. Someone had made mention that Matt had stabbed Alfred in the side with the bayonet of his musket.

Arthur shook his head and put those things out of his head, pushing the soup from him. "Thank you for lunch, Bernard," said Arthur absently.

"You haven't finished," said Bernard, eyeing him with that stern look.

"I don't have the appetite," said Arthur. Bernard continued to give him that stern look before relenting. After all, Arthur had not been eating properly for a long while so his ability to eat his usual helpings was hindered considerably. "It was delicious, though," said Arthur, smiling hopefully at Bernard, hoping the man would not take offense.

"As long as you are getting sustenance," said Bernard.

With that, Arthur pulled his coat on and his hat and went back out to his carriage. Mr. Farrow the temporary coachman was just finishing eating something from the kitchen outside and down the rest of it hurriedly before hopping up onto the perch. "Sorry about that, sir. I didn't know you be leaving so soon," said Mr. Farrow.

Arthur shook his head and looked up at Mr. Farrow. "Don't think too much on it, driver, I simply tend to make quick decisions on where I need to go." Arthur stepped up into the carriage and closed the door, relaying an order for Mr. Farrow to take him to the police. When he felt the carriage roll forward that feeling of being closely watched hit him again. He looked around and frowned faintly as he looked to the people in the street outside his gates. Seeing nothing unusual, he settled back into his seat, though uneasily.

_

* * *

Arthur came down for tea and scones, Aashiyana still in bed and curled up in the sheets and blankets. Bernard came in and placed the mail on the tea table in front of Arthur before moving away to straighten something. Arthur chewed on a scone as he poked through the mail to find a letter from Greece. He pulled it out and looked at it. It was indeed from Herakles Karpusi, the personification of Greece. _

_ "Is something the matter, Master Kirkland?" asked Bernard as he finished straightening up._

_ "No," muttered Arthur, "I just find it interesting that Mr. Karpusi would be sending me a letter."_

_ "That is Greece, correct, sir?" asked Bernard._

_ "Yes."_

England,

I heard India was visiting. I am letting her know that I have sent some supplies to help. Please give her my best.

-Greece

_ Arthur smiled just a little. Greece was far closer to India than his own ships that could take supplies were. Greece could send help far faster than Britain. "It looks as though Greece will be sending aid to India in short order," said Arthur, folding the note and putting it away._

_ "Very good, sir. She has been looking dreadful for too long," said Bernard._

_ Arthur's smile faded as he sipped his tea. "I know, Bernard. It worries me to see her looking so dreadful. The famine is leeching from her, killing her the same way her people are dying. I can only hope she'll eat something later. It's the only thing I can think of to help stave off the leeching so that she can still function, walk around, be somewhat comfortable."_

_ "Shall I have the cooks prepare something special, then, sir?" asked Bernard._

_ "Yes," said Arthur, nodding, "Something light that won't upset her stomach would be helpful to her I think."_

_ "Perhaps a light soup, then, sir. I once sampled a rather fine dish of Mulligatawny during my service in Bombay," said Bernard, "However, it is heavily curried."_

_ "She might enjoy that, actually," said Arthur, "Have the cooks prepare it."_

_ "Very good, sir," said Bernard, bowing to Arthur a little, "I shall have the cooks look up the recipe." Then, he turned and walked away toward the kitchens._

"Sir, we're at the station," said Mr. Farrow.

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes and looked out. The feeling of being watched wasn't present anymore. Had he been asleep? Or, perhaps, he was just lost in a reverie like he had been prone to during his "escapes" from reality. He got out of the carriage and walked into Scotland Yard and went up to the room that Inspector Abberline and Chief Inspector Moore had been looking through letters. Abberline wasn't there, but Moore was and Arthur received a rather interesting look from Moore as he entered.

"Coming to join the circus again are you, Mr. Kirkland?" asked Moore. "We haven't found anything else and I still have doubts about your even being useful, though Inspector Abberline believes differently."

"Believe me when I say that even I have no idea how I can be useful either, though Her Majesty seems to believe I would be," said Arthur as he walked toward Moore and sat down, his hat and cane set aside. Moore pushed the two files with the two women in them as Arthur looked to another pile, seemingly drawn to it. "What are those, Inspector Moore?"

"Files of other murders in Whitechapel," said Moore. "The area has a lot of crime. They're nothing unusual. Stabbings mostly." Moore looked up when Arthur picked up the files and gave a bit of an exasperated sigh. "They're not in connection with this case, Sir Arthur."

"I've had a bit of a strange day, Mr. Moore," said Arthur as he opened the files one at a time, "Allow me to look at them, please. It might actually make me feel more fortunate that despite the strangeness of my days as of late that I at least am not these poor souls." Moore gave him a bit of an odd look, but nodded after a moment turned back to the things in front of him. "I trust Abberline is out investigating the areas where the women were found, looking into suspects and the like, yes?"

"Yes, he is. He has a good mind for this work in my opinion," said Moore. "There are others on this case as well, just in case you seem to think my lovely visage being present here is an indication of any lacking of the police and detectives of Scotland Yard. I know the press is claiming as such. Commissioner Warren has been trying to get blood hounds to look for the madman, though he can't get them out yet."

"I think nothing of it, Mr. Moore, I was simply asking," said Arthur. A seamstress was assaulted by a man with a mustache and a wide brimmed hat. He demanded money from her and when she refused he stabbed her in the neck with a knife, though she had survived, thankfully, to tell the tale. A man as obsessive and compulsive as to practice writing to the point of almost perfection would go out and stab a woman for not giving him money? That didn't make sense. Unless, of course, he actually needed the money and 'seamstress' was a popular term with the prostitutes to call themselves, though in this woman's case she really was a seamstress.

Arthur put that woman's file down back in the pile that he had pulled it up in and went to the next woman. This time it was a woman with slightly higher standing thanks to her association with a more societal set of people, though she was still a prostitute. She claimed a group of young men had come and attacked her and raped her before jabbing a blunt object into her that eventually killed her in very painful ways. The murderer they were searching for was more likely a loner; especially since working the way he had with Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman was such a solitary act.

There was another woman who had been stabbed thirty-nine times and found in the dark, but that woman was said to have gone off with sailor. Perhaps the sailor had moved on before the woman had been attacked? Arthur wasn't certain, but the stabbing areas—the groin, the breasts and the stomach—all felt like they could possibly be done by "Jack". However, the woman was also said to have been in a rather prone position and some of the wounds were inflicted by a bayonet.

And then there was the woman who died ten days after her attack—once again, a stabbing of some magnitude—though the causes were said to have been natural as to what killed her. Even so, she claimed it was a solitary man whom she had no idea who he was at all. Three cases in all that were stabbing attacks: one because of money, another with a bayonet and the third with a knife. Could it have been this killer in all three cases? He could understand why the detectives shelved them away from the "Ripper".

"Finally done are you?" asked Moore.

"Yes," said Arthur softly, putting the files down. "The stabbings make me think that perhaps they might be connected to this 'Jack the Ripper' as he's so conveniently called himself, but then there's the issue that he is more likely alone in his activities." And yet, Arthur's eyes were drawn to the seamstress's file. He picked it out and looked at it again.

"Finding something of interest, Sir Arthur?" asked Moore. "As I said, we've already gone through the facts in those files to see if they were anything remotely close to what this animal's been doing and found nothing."

"Ada Wilson," said Arthur suddenly, "She's a victim of him, I think."

"I don't think I made myself very clear," said Moore slowly, "We've already gone through the files and found nothing that coincides with this murderer. They're a waste of time and you, frankly, are a waste of our time. You said yourself you have no detective expertise at all and that you have no idea what our illustrious queen wants you to do with us. You have no idea what to do, what to investigate and what could the killer be doing."

Arthur looked to Moore with mild irritation until Moore was finished speaking and then said, "I have a feeling about Miss Wilson here, Mr. Moore." He looked to the file again and narrowed his eyes at it. "Everything has to start somewhere. Seamstress is a popular term for the prostitutes to call themselves, though Miss Wilson really is a seamstress. The only problem I have with it is that he did not finish her off or make sure she died. The shape Polly Nichols was in speaks that this isn't the first time he has killed. His handwriting speaks that he's a perfectionist. Annie's body says he is getting better at identifying how he wants to deal with such women."

"And where did you start?" asked Moore.

"As a thief," said Arthur, "I stole apples and things as a little boy and ran from authority constantly." Moore raised an eyebrow at Arthur and leaned back in his chair. "As I said, everything has a start somewhere and I have a feeling that perhaps Miss Wilson is the start."

"A feeling?" asked Moore, though his tone was derisive. "A feeling you say?"

"I have some psychic ability, yes," said Arthur. He didn't mention that it was now reduced to just feelings of emotions and intent.

"We've already turned down one psychic; we don't need one appointed by the queen," said Moore, "We're Scotland Yard, we're British detectives, we use science and facts; we don't need to have some upper-class former thief helping us with his 'sixth' sense."

"It's too late, anyway," said Arthur, "Since I'm in this and I've been noticed by the killer. Lately I have had the feeling that I'm being watched like an insect."

"A good looking chap like you is noticeable," said Moore. He stood up and then put his hat on his head. "Listen, don't come back. Go home, stay inside, go to Parliament or the palace or whatever it is you do for the queen, and leave the detective work to us."

"And what shall I tell the queen then when I have nothing to report?" asked Arthur.

"You're upper-class, you're in close with the queen, and you know politics," said Moore, "Make it up." Then, he walked out, leaving Arthur there at the desk. Arthur stood up after a moment and put his hat on. He looked down at the files and sighed at Ada Wilson's file. Everything had to have a start, but was that one actually a start for Jack the Ripper?

He made his way down to his waiting carriage, telling Mr. Farrow to take him home. As soon as he stepped into the carriage and it began to take off Arthur's senses once again snapped to action and he looked sharply through the window. For one moment he saw someone in the people moving that had just turned away, a man that looked strangely like himself. "Mr. Farrow! Stop!" he cried through the pipe beside him. The carriage stopped abruptly, making Arthur have to brace himself to keep from falling over. Then, he launched himself out of the carriage into the moving crowd.

Arthur darted through the people, past people selling various goods, past men, women and children walking on the sidewalk as he ran after the man in the top hat and black coat. He leaped over children that fell underfoot and dogs that happened to get in the way. Then, just as he made a grab for him, he lost his footing and fell right on his face; the coat he had been grabbing for flew away from his hand with the man it was attached to.

"Sir!" Mr. Farrow cried from the crowd. Arthur pushed himself up from the ground and panted heavily. He hadn't had so much activity in a long while and it showed on his poor body. Mr. Farrow helped him up to his feet slowly, Arthur looking around.

"Mr. Farrow," said Arthur when he got his breath back somewhat, "Did you see the man I was chasing?"

"Sorry, sir, no," said Mr. Farrow. "What did he look like?"

Arthur thought about saying that the man looked like himself, but he kept his mouth shut. "Nothing," said Arthur, "Nothing at all. Just take me back home." Arthur then walked back to the carriage with a bewildered Mr. Farrow behind him. Once home, Arthur bypassed Bernard and went straight up the stairs to his room where he locked the door and pulled out the laudanum and absinthe and began toasting to his newfound exile from the police.

_

* * *

That night, at dinner, Arthur ate with Alfred in the dining room. They had good fare that evening with plenty of moments when Arthur would look on disapprovingly as Alfred said something he didn't like or flirted with little Olivia Thatcher the maid. Bernard had Emily bring the soup up to Aashiyana in that time while Arthur spoke to Alfred about his newfound lack of manners at the dinner table._

_ And then they heard her scream._

_ Arthur shot to his feet as did Alfred and they ran up the stairs to see what had happened. Emily backed out of Arthur's room looking white as a sheet with her hands over her mouth and shaking. "Her eyes! She's so thin! She looks almost gray! She looks like she's dead!" At that Arthur's insides froze. He darted into the room before Alfred could and went to Aashiyana's side quickly. She was curled up tightly, cold and shivering, her body so thin that her eyes had sunken in, her cheek bones stuck out terribly and she looked as though he could break her easily with just a touch. _

_ "Aashiyana," he gasped, getting down on the bed beside her and lifting her up against his body, holding her firmly. _

_ When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and dry, her smile very faint on her thin face. "Yes, I am here, Britain."_

_ "Greece has sent a message, Aashiyana," said Arthur softly, "He said he's sending aid to India." Aashiyana's smile remained faint and weak; her head leaned into Arthur's chest. "Alfred, bring that soup over here. At the very least we have to try to combat the leeching," he said in an urgent tone._

_ Alfred picked up the soup bowl from the bedside table and gave it to Arthur, which he juggled Aashiyana and the bowl and the spoon to feed her slowly with. Slowly, the curry put a little color in her sunken cheeks, but he knew it would do very little to ease this condition she had thanks to the famine. When he was done feeding her, he gave the bowl back to Alfred who then took it to Bernard out in the hallway. Olivia and Emma attempted to console poor Emily as she still cried over the condition of Aashiyana and her own fear that Aashiyana might be done for. Truly, she echoed Arthur's own fears and that alone terrified him even more._

_ "Britain," said Aashiyana slowly, her voice only a little better than it was before, "Are…we certain that…the Empress has… s-sent aid?"_

_ "I'll go to the palace," said Arthur._

_ "I'll watch after her, Arthur," said Alfred, his voice hard, "Make sure that queen of yours is doing what's right by the people."_

_ "It's only been a few days! It took us weeks to get to England from India; how long do you think it'll take to get aid to India from here?" snapped Arthur. Alfred went silent and looked worriedly at Aashiyana. Arthur sighed and hugged her close to him. "Just… Just calm down, all right?" A fine thing for Arthur to say when he was panicking himself!_

_ "I should… go with you," said Aashiyana softly._

_ "No, you need to stay here. You can't go out like this," said Arthur._

_ "She must… must be made to see," said Aashiyana, gripping Arthur's sleeve in a weak grip. Arthur looked to her eyes and saw that, while they were glazed by hunger and lack of nutrition, she still held that determination he had grown so accustomed to seeing in her. He quickly stood up and pulled an old fashioned nightgown over Aashiyana to cover her and then lifted her up far too easily in his arms and walked out of the room. Alfred followed after him._

_ "I'll take her," said Alfred._

_ "No, I am," said Arthur, "But you can follow along if you like." Bernard had a wheelchair ready for them on the back of the carriage as Alfred pulled a blanket around Aashiyana and Arthur carried her to the carriage, Mr. Pitch the driver coming out at a run to meet them with the horses. Arthur got in with Aashiyana in his arms while Alfred hopped up onto the driver's perch next to Mr. Pitch just before Mr. Pitch snapped the reigns and started the carriage forward at a quick pace. _

_ The palace was quiet, most of the windows dark, as the carriage rolled up to the gates. "Halt," cried one of the guards, "What brings you to the palace?" Arthur didn't see what had happened, but was fairly certain Alfred had just made enemies of the palace guards for years to come as he saw the guards both drop after Alfred had jumped down from the perch. He then opened the gates for the carriage and hopped back on as it rolled forward again toward the palace._

_ Once in front of the main entrance to the palace, the carriage stopped and Arthur let Alfred take Aashiyana and put her into the wheel chair after Mr. Pitch had unstrapped it from the back and set it down. Aashiyana seemed to slump a little in the wheelchair before she forced herself back up into a sitting position in it. The door to the palace opened after Arthur knocked on it and a very irritated man stood looking at Arthur and his rabble in annoyance. "State your business," said the man. Clearly he was a butler or footman of some sort._

_ "I need to see the queen urgently," said Arthur, "Tell Her Majesty that Sir Arthur Kirkland is here and I need to speak with her quickly."_

_ The man gave him a rather exasperated look and moved back from the door a little to close it. "Come back tomorrow and request then."_

_ Arthur grabbed the man by his lapels and pulled him forward through the gap in the door and glared dangerously at him, his unnaturally bright green eyes hot and angry. "No, we will see her now."_

_ For a moment, the man looked surprised by Arthur's use of force, but that annoyed look came over him again as he said, "Threatening me will do you no good, you know." Arthur snapped his head forward into the man's head and let him drop to the ground like a broken doll._

_ Arthur put a hand to his forehead and glared over his shoulder at Alfred. "Well? What the bloody hell are you waiting for! A fucking invitation? Get her in here!" Alfred laughed loudly as he wheeled Aashiyana to the steps in front of the door while Arthur pulled the man he just grounded off to the side where he wouldn't be in the way. Arthur and Alfred then very carefully pulled Aashiyana's wheels up the steps until she was inside the palace. For a moment, Arthur thought he saw a rather pleased smile on Aashiyana's lips, a look that he guessed must have been because of his sudden return to piratedom. _

_ A servant came into view and cleared his throat to get their attention. "Is there something you needed?" he asked._

_ "The queen, we need to speak to her," said Arthur. "I'm Sir Arthur Kirkland, one of the queen's closest advisors. It's urgent we speak with her." This time, at least, the servant just seemed to do as he was asked and came back after a short while to usher them to the dining hall where Queen Victoria was about to eat dinner. She looked expectantly toward Arthur especially, her eyes as hard as ever._

_ "Well? Is there a reason you have come barging into our home?" she asked, very clearly irritated at Arthur._

_ Arthur bowed a little to her for a moment before looking to her directly. "Did you send the aid to India as you had said you would, Your Majesty?"_

_ "There has been much debate regarding sending the ships to India," said Victoria, her eyes as hard as ever._

_ Arthur's gaze hardened just as much. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, India is dying. The famine is leeching from her body and wasting her away to nothing in reflection of her people." When Victoria didn't seem to be very inclined to speaking, Arthur moved aside and motioned for Alfred to wheel Aashiyana forward with his hand. Once in the light, Aashiyana pulled the blanket away from her head, which she had pulled up around it to keep her warm. She looked even worse than she had back in Arthur's house, eliciting a look of genuine surprise from Victoria._

_ "Ma'am," said Alfred, his gaze fixed on Victoria without shying away, combating her typically hard gaze with one of his own. "If you've got any sort of heart in you then will you please send those ships to India no matter what debate you've been having?_

_ Victoria bristled just the slightest bit at the informality and accusation in Alfred's tone, something that Arthur enjoyed seeing on the woman who was so often as calm and composed as an iceberg. "And you are?"_

_ "Alfred F. Jones," said Alfred, "I'm the United States of America." At that Victoria promptly turned her attention away from him and ignored him entirely, making him roll his eyes a bit. Instead, she turned her attention on Aashiyana._

_ "The ships will be sent immediately this night. I will have a message sent to the captains for them to set sail. Is that satisfactory?" asked Victoria._

_ Aashiyana gazed at her with those black and green eyes. "If I may," said Aashiyana softly, "I have… another suggestion."_

_ "You may," said Victoria, sitting up more in her seat, her hands in hr lap._

_ Aashiyana put the end of the blanket to her mouth a moment as she shook just the slightest bit. Then, slowly, she stood away from the chair and held herself up as straight and proud as she could. Her eyes were weary, she looked in pain, but Arthur knew that she was not going to back down even if he ordered her to. "It is not uncommon, my Empress… for British families living in my land… t… to have large stores of grain, dates, and other vital stores of vittles kept for private use… for small families."_

_ "I suppose that makes for a good suggestion," said Victoria, watching Aashiyana with those hard eyes of hers, "But it will take time for word to make it over as it will the ships."_

_ "Your word… will reach a lot faster than the ships, My Empress," said Aashiyana, trying to breathe, "Even if by only a week. Your Imperial Majesty, I implore you…" Her voice broke and she took a moment get a hold of herself, making both Alfred and Arthur twitch. "I ask that…your subjects share… their bounty in this great time of need."_

_ Victoria gazed at her for a long moment as though considering. Then, she said, "Let it not be said that the British Crown is not compassionate or sympathetic to its subjects who are under its rule and the colonies under its rule." Victoria then flicked her eyes toward Alfred before looking to Arthur. "It will be done."_

_ As though overwhelmed, Aashiyana bent down on her knee and said in a soft voice, "Thank you. Thank you, My Empress."_

_ "Now, get yourself someplace to rest," said Victoria. Then, she stood up and walked out quickly, her skirts making soft noises as she walked away through the door behind her chair._

_ "Did… did she just insult me?" asked Alfred, surprised. "I think that was a dig at me because I'm America!"_

_ Arthur kneeled down to Aashiyana when she didn't stand up again. He found her pressing the end of the blanket to her mouth to stifle the bleeding. Slowly, she swallowed it back and instead the sounds of her tears hit the floor under their feet instead. Arthur wrapped his arms around her gently and lifted her up into his arms carefully. With Aashiyana in his arms, Arthur then made his way out of the palace, mockingly making a motion of tipping his hat at the man who was still unconscious by the door. "Wotcher, guv," he said before he made his way to the carriage._

_ Mr. Pitch put the wheelchair up on the back of the carriage and then took his seat on the driver's perch next to Alfred. Arthur set Aashiyana against him inside the carriage and held her securely there as the carriage rolled out through the gates of the palace and made its way to his home in short order. By the time they got home Bernard and some of the male servants were putting wooden slats on the bed frame so that the bed could once again sit up on them inside of sitting on the floor as it had been doing. _

_ "Thank you, Bernard," said Arthur; "I'm glad you could have that done in so short of time."_

_ "It's not a problem, sir," said Bernard. "I certainly can't have my employer sleeping on the floor in a broken bed. It's bad luck."_

_ "I can hold her for a while, Arthur," said Alfred, noticing that Arthur was shifting a little with Aashiyana in his arms. For her part, Aashiyana was snuggling weakly against Arthur._

_ "I need no aid from you, Alfred," said Arthur in annoyance. When the fresh sheets and blankets were placed on the bed, Arthur walked over and laid Aashiyana down in it and pulled the sheets up over her body to keep her warm. _

_ "Heavens," said Bernard as he finally got a look at her, "Such a change in the poor woman. The plight in India must be dire indeed."_

_ "It is," said Alfred. He smiled faintly at Bernard and took his hand, shaking it. "Thanks for all the help, by the way."_

_ "It is my duty," said Bernard, "I only do what I can, Mr. Jones." _

_ "Hey, Arthur," said Alfred. Arthur turned to look at Alfred from the bed, his hand on Aashiyana's skeletal one. Alfred smiled warmly at him and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'll be in my room. Call someone to get me if you need me, all right?"_

_ Arthur smiled faintly at Alfred and nodded. "I will."_


	6. Chapter Six

_A/N: Best. Friday the 13__th__ event. EVER. Hahahaha… oh, if you're on AQWorlds, I'm either "x_Ehren_x" or "_Ehren_". The one without "x"s is the good character and the other is evil._

_So anyway… back to the story._

_Chapter Six_

Arthur groaned softly, his head moving to the side, unnaturally bright green eyes glazed and lazily looking around with gray circles under his eyes. The bottle of absinthe was next to him and his laudanum was hidden away. He felt as though he were under water; everything he did was slow to respond and his brain was fuzzy. He heard a female voice calling his name, but he was uncertain of its origin.

He slowly turned his head toward the source and looked up at a feminine figure looking at him in concern. There was no mistaking that long black braid over her shoulder, the brown skin and those black and green eyes. Her saari was not on, however. Instead, she wore just her undergarments of a tight, fitted blouse and her petticoat. Her smile made his insides warm and his body relaxed. He smiled warmly up at her. He tried to lift himself up, but all he could do was lift his hand a little. Pain went through him as his stomach cried out for sustenance. It forced him to curl up on his side and hold it, panting heavily.

"You should eat," said Aashiyana softly. "I have some grapes and some bread here."

Arthur looked up, shaking. The candle near her lit her features in a soft glow. Her eyes were sad as she gazed at him and as warm as the candle she held beside her. Arthur slowly uncurled and got onto his hands and knees as she picked up at grape and held it for him. "Do you want me to feed you?"

"Please," said Arthur softly, moving closer to her on his hands and knees. As she pressed the grape to his lips, he let his tongue move out over it slowly, taking in the moisture on them and the moisture from her fingers before sucking the grape from her fingers, eating it slowly. His stomach raged as it received just a small payment. Again she put another grape to his lips and again he took it in the same way, groaning loudly. She looked away from him as though embarrassed, though he could hardly understand why.

When she took too long to put another grape to his mouth he made an almost desperate whine. When he felt she teased him with the bread by letting him smell it first he growled low in his throat. Hungrily he took in the sustenance, suckling at her fingers and teasing them with his tongue in thanks until at least he heard her moan a little, her chest rising and falling visibly as her breathing became heavy. Arthur moved closer to her, making her scoot away from him for some reason. He whispered to her softly, nuzzling into her as he brought a hand up to her cheek. "Feed me water from your lips," he said.

Staring into his eyes, Aashiyana reached over to the glass of water she had beside her and took some into her mouth before he immediately pressed his lips to hers and opened her mouth quickly, taking in the water as he explored her mouth. She responded, but only a little, as though hesitant. She made only a small noise, though of pleasure or protest he wasn't quite certain. He broke away from her mouth and allowed her to take in more water before he repeated the process, his hands moving to her ears to rub them slowly with his thumbs. She moaned then, but only a little.

He was certain of one thing on the third time of drinking from her mouth: she didn't taste of curry or even smell of it. She didn't smell of spices and henna, of jungle and earth. She, instead, smelled like fresh linens and tea, of the kitchen and house. Panting, Arthur pulled back, looking at her, his blood racing in his veins. He frowned as her eyes came into focus, no longer black and green, but gray. The blood drained from his skin as he pulled back more from her, looking at her as a whole new set of emotions took over. It wasn't Aashiyana. It was the maid Anne. Had she tricked him? Did the little bitch think she could take Aashiyana's place?!

"What… What are you doing here?" asked Arthur, feeling suddenly very angry and empty all at once. It was not Aashiyana. It wasn't Aashiyana at all!

Anne's flushed face became even more flushed as she stammered and tried to speak. Arthur's trembling became worse as he clenched his fists. "WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" he snapped.

Crying, Anne covered her head. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sir!"

She was sorry? She was sorry?! The little bitch had deceived him into thinking she was Aashiyana with the low lighting and her feeding him grapes and bread, allowing him to kiss her and touch her so intimately. She was sorry?!

Arthur grabbed her and slapped her hard enough that blood oozed from her mouth. He slammed her into the floor, getting on top of her, shouting at her, "YOU ARE NOT AASHIYANA! YOU WILL NEVER BE AASHIYANA, YOU LITTLE WHORE!!" Her screaming spurred his rage, making him want to shut her up. He wrapped his hands around her throat and gripped her tightly, watching her choke and cry and struggle to get away from him. She started to lose that strength in her limbs quickly, struggling less as he clamped his hands on her throat until a stronger fist hit him on the jaw and threw him off of the little maid. Another maid hurried in and pulled Anne away as he saw Bernard come into his view to restrain him.

And then it hit him. He stared at Anne as she coughed and tried to breathe, felt the pain of Bernard's much stronger hands holding his arms behind him in a very awkward angle, saw the other maids look on in terror at him. Numbed, Arthur didn't resist. Bernard looked to the maids and said in his usual stern tone, "Get her out of here. Now. Get a doctor to look at her." The maids didn't hesitate a moment longer as they hurriedly pulled Anne out of the room and closed the door.

Arthur panted softly as tears came to his eyes, staring at the door. What had he done? Why had he reacted so strongly? What was happening? Why had he tried to kill little Anne? He had felt such rage that he hadn't felt in the longest time. He had wanted her to stop breathing so that she wouldn't scream anymore, so that he wouldn't have made the same mistake of seeing her as Aashiyana again. He had wanted her dead.

"What have I done?" asked Arthur.

"Do you have your mind about you now? You nearly killed that poor girl," said Bernard. "I told you that those substances would be your undoing."

He had nearly killed a girl. He had wanted to kill a girl. He had wanted it as much as he wanted Aashiyana to be there. What was wrong with him? "I… I…" He couldn't even form words as tears slipped over his cheeks.

Bernard sighed and lifted Arthur to his bed. "Just sleep a while, Master Kirkland. I have a feeling Anne will be wishing to find another place to work after she recovers."

"Y.. yes…" Arthur lay down on his back, looking up at the canopy of his bed.

"You can apologize later, Master Kirkland, if it is something you wish to do. In the mean time you need to sleep," said Bernard. He moved away and picked up the bottle of absinthe. It was empty. Again he fixed a stern look at Arthur, but he hardly registered it. Bernard then left Arthur in the room to sleep.

_

* * *

There was a knock at the door, to which Bernard answered it. Arthur didn't need to see who it was to know who was there; the sound of cats mewing and purring nearby was rather audible. "How may I help you, sir?" asked Bernard. _

_ Herakles Karpusi, the embodiment of Greece, stood there wearing his casual clothes, his blue-green eyes lazily looking on at Bernard as he smiled a little lazily at the butler. His brown, curly hair was a little long, though it hardly ever mattered to most who spoke with him. He looked down after a moment and gently patted the cats by his feet before looking to Bernard again and said in a very mellow, accented voice. "Well wishing," said Herakles. _

_ "Go ahead and let him in, Bernard," said Arthur as he stood up. He walked over as Herakles walked further in, the cats staying outside at the door step. "It has been a while since I last saw you, Herakles," said Arthur._

_ "Yes," said Herakles, nodding to Arthur, "…been a while."_

_ "Why don't you have a seat in the sitting room," said Arthur, motioning toward it with his hand. Herakles, meanwhile, looked up the stairs, those blue-green eyes of his showing his mind wandering elsewhere._

_ "Can I see her?" he asked._

_ Arthur eyed him a long moment, feeling a little uneasy. He nodded, however and showed him up the stairs to his room where Aashiyana was tucked into bed. She had been bedridden for a week or more since the surprise meeting in the palace. She had only come out of it when Arthur or Alfred took her to the bathroom where she could let the dead pass through her or to get up to relieve herself. Alfred was sitting beside Aashiyana, reading one of Arthur's books to her to pass the time and keep her spirits up; it was Robin Hood._

_ Aashiyana, unfortunately, didn't seem to be registering any of what Alfred said. He lifted her thin hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently, smiling a little. "I'm sorry if I'm boring you, Aashiyana," he said softly. He finally looked over when he realized that they weren't alone._

_ "No… forgive me… for not being well enough to enjoy it," said Aashiyana, her voice dry. She looked over as Arthur walked closer to her and kneeled down; Alfred, meanwhile, made himself a nice exit from that side of the bed so that Arthur could have room. _

_ Herakles was rooted to the spot, however, in the doorway. His eyes were wide as he took in the state of Aashiyana. Alfred walked over to him and smiled a bit. "Hello, Greece," said he, though he was ignored. Almost immediately as soon as Alfred spoke Herakles made his way over to where Arthur was and sat down on the bed beside her. Arthur saw Aashiyana's gaze gentle as she registered who else was there, a small, nostalgic smile crossing her lips. Herakles looked on at her with a pained expression as he took her hands in his and held them to him as though she were as delicate as a flower. _

_ "I have sent more aid," said Herakles, his voice soft and gentle, "They tell me it will be there tomorrow."_

_ The smile spread more over Aashiyana's features, making Arthur's insides start to disappear from him. "I am glad to hear that," said Aashiyana, her tone as gentle as her smile. Herakles, at that, reached forward and held her to him in a tender embrace that made Arthur's insides disappear more. He held her like a lover. Aashiyana slowly curled into Herakles's arms as though she fit with him. _

_ Softly, very softly, Herakles spoke in Hindi to Aashiyana, the sound rolling from his tongue as well as his own language did. "_I will make you well again_," said Herakles, stroking her hair gently, "_I promise._"_

_ Arthur felt the urge to hit Herakles. He had to remind himself that Herakles and Aashiyana had once shared a kingdom. They had once been together in a much more equal capacity than he was with her. Of course it was only natural that she and he seemed to fit together like they were made for one another. Of course it was only natural that he hold her as close as he was. Of course!_

_ Of course._

_ Herakles gently kissed her forehead, her temples, her eyelids, he gently touched her hair and cheek, he nuzzled gently against her in comforting motions; all the while Arthur was churning inside. He wanted to hit him, but he couldn't. If he started an unnecessary fight he could end up causing a war to start with Greece. If he tried to hurt Herakles he would only be hurt in the end, on account that Herakles was as solid as a damn rock and could toss Arthur like a doll if he decided to fight. _

_ "_I'm here, Rani_," said Herakles, barely above a whisper._

_ Arthur felt his heart finally disappear. He stood away from the side of the bed and made his way swiftly out of the room. He dimly registered Alfred ask, "What does that mean? I've heard Arthur say it before."_

_"It means 'queen'," said Herakles just as Arthur started to open his mouth, though he slammed it shut. "Usually only the raja… I mean, the king usually says it."_

_ "Bernard," called Arthur, "I need the carriage brought around."_

_ Bernard looked up at Arthur quizzically. "Of course, sir. Where are you off to?"_

_ "The park," said Arthur as he pulled his coat on. "I need some fresh air." No, getting the carriage would take too long to assemble and he wanted to get out right then. "I take it back, I'll walk there myself."_

_"Arthur? Where are you going?" asked Alfred from the stairs._

_ "A walk," said Arthur shortly._

_ "I don't suppose you've become upset, sir," said Bernard, eyeing him knowingly._

_ Arthur stiffened and snapped back, "Of course, I haven't!"_

_ "Very well, sir," said Bernard._

_ Of course it did not matter if Herakles and Aashiyana were fond of each other or not. Aashiyana was his legally. She was his colony. She was his subordinate. She was his…_

_ She was his __**Rani**__._

_ "I shall have someone fetch you should Miss Singh need assistance," said Bernard with just a bit more meaning than he meant to. Arthur skipped putting on his hat and just walked out. He didn't want to start a fight with Herakles. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He just needed to calm himself down. He needed to drink until his senses were dull enough that he didn't start a fight, so he headed for the local pub._

_ Not too long after Arthur had left, he sat on a stool in the local pub and drank down two shots of scotch and drank slowly from his third as he felt his nerves start to dull from the alcohol. Herakles entered then and walked over to him, sitting down the next seat over from him to give Arthur some room. Arthur smiled just a bit and lifted his glass to him. "Cheerio," he said in greeting._

_ "America—Alfred had said you were upset," said Herakles, ordering some water for himself._

_"Upset?" Arthur snorted and sipped again from his glass. "Of course I'm not upset. Why should I be upset? It isn't as though things are the same with us as they are with everyone else. If I've got a fellow nation as one of my own, she's one of my own, but that doesn't mean she has to like me at all. Oh, __**especially**__ if she's not even an equal." Arthur chuckled as he downed the rest of his scotch and ordered a fourth. _

_ "Take that couple over there," said Arthur, "They don't have to worry about anything other than their own lives. They don't have to worry about their separate governments clashing, their people objecting, or maybe even rebellion if they choose to marry. Us? We have to marry when our government decides to form a union with another. Or, better yet, those two don't have to worry about being unequal to each other because they love each other and that is all that matters. Us? A subordinate is a subordinate with nothing in between. Once nation can't be anything other than the leading nation or the subordinate; there is no in-between for these things."_

_ "No," said Herakles softly, "There is always the chance that someone could step into the relationship and ruin it. We do that by invasion. It hurts just as much."_

_ "'n if that bastard were to start a fight, y'could jeopardize an entire civilization," said Arthur, slurring a bit. "An'… an' what's more, even if you're in that relationship, y'have to remember that at any given point in history they will end up going independent or break away from you… or you have to leave them… or any number of things that don't make any sense right now." _

_ Herakles sat silently as Arthur sipped from his scotch slowly, Arthur breaking the silence when he felt enough time had passed. "I just don't want to cause a rumpus," said Arthur softly, "So.. I came here to muddle my head. At least if my head is muddled I don't get so angry that I want to hit you for being so familiar with her." He sighed and rubbed his face. "And you won't end up thrashing me for causing the rumpus to begin with."_

_ "You know I don't like fighting," said Herakles._

_ "You're bigger'n me," said Arthur flatly, "as well as physically stronger. I've become stronger physically since the empire grew, but that is no match for a big Greek fellow with shoulders wider than mine."_

_ Herakles sat silent for a moment and then said, "I suppose you have a point. I could lay you out easily."_

_ "And that's why I muddle my head!" said Arthur, pointing to his temple and wavering a bit on his stool. He caught himself on the bar before he could fall over. He wasn't drunk enough that he could get violent, but he still hampered his ability to keep himself upright._

_ "It's easy, isn't it?" asked Herakles._

_ Arthur blinked blearily at Herakles, trying to focus his sight on him. "What?"_

_"It's easy to fall for her," said Herakles, "Because she's so different. She's frightening and free and proud…and then things like this famine happen to her and you know that no matter how much you try to help you can only sit by and watch." Arthur looked away to his glass as Herakles spoke, knowing full well what the Greek spoke of. "But you also know that she will get back up again eventually."_

_ "Yeah," mumbled Arthur._

_ "She tolerates you more than she does most other people," said Herakles. Arthur looked over at him in mild surprise. Herakles wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixed on the wall ahead of him as he took a sip of his water. "I suppose she likes you."_

_ Arthur looked away and poked his glass absently as he stared at it. "I don't need encouragement from you."_

_ "It's not encouragement. It's just my observation," said Herakles. Arthur harrumphed and finished off his fourth shot of scotch. Herakles put down what he owed for the water, though he hardly touched it, and stood up. "I can't call her what I used to anymore," he said, "I suppose I did it for nostalgia's sake. You are the Maharaja now, so you own that title to give her."_

_ "I told you that I don't need encouragement from you," snapped Arthur._

_ "Observing out loud," said Herakles. Arthur harrumphed again and Herakles turned away toward the doors of the pub. "I'll go back and keep her warm then," he said. Arthur stood quickly, paid the bartender and then walked out stiffly, though he nearly ran into the doorframe in doing so. Arthur made it home a little less for wear as he stumbled through the streets of London trying to get back. He found Alfred with Aashiyana curled against his side._

_"Ah, there y'are," said Arthur as he grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling over. He chuckled as Alfred looked up at him._

_ "Are you drunk?" asked Alfred._

_ Arthur walked forward toward the bed and said in a singsong voice, "Muddled is muddled is muddled…" Then, he fell flat on his face with a sharp sound of pain from him._

_ "Yeah, you're drunk," said Alfred, shaking his head._

_ "Don't talk to me like that, you ungrateful colony!" snapped Arthur._

_ "Arthur, I'm not a colony anymore," Alfred grumbled._

_ "I gave you everything you could ever need! And then you up and went," Arthur's voice changed as he mocked Alfred's voice, "Oh I don't like this getting everything! I want freedom! I want blah blah blah!" Arthur grunted as he attempted to get up, prompting Alfred to get up from his seat behind Aashiyana and walk over to him. "Fucking colony! You ungrateful little whelp! I hate you!"_

_ Alfred lifted Arthur up by the back of his coat and set him on his feet carefully. "Arthur, come on. Why don't you sit on the bed and stop shouting, okay?"_

_ "Gerroffme," mumbled Arthur. Alfred let go of Arthur and let him walk over to the bed and sit down. He looked over and saw those dark, sunken eyes gazing at him gently. Slowly he made his way closer to her until he pulled her up against him and held her gently. She was so very thin. Her usual soft curves were interrupted by the protrusions of her bones sticking out; her strength was wholly stolen from her. Very gently she nuzzled into his head as though to comfort __**him**__ despite that lack of strength in herself._

_ "You silly woman," he said softly, "You silly woman. You're the one hurting right now, not me." Softly, Aashiyana shushed him and he pulled her more into his body to comfort her. _

_ "_I will… only perish… if you command it so… maharaja_," she said in Hindi._

_ "Don't be stupid. I would never—"_

_ "Then, I will endure," said Aashiyana, smiling just the faintest bit at him._


	7. Chapter Seven

_A/N: When Thanksgiving rolls around I can tell I'm going to be given a hard time by my Aunt Joyce. I'll have my Glenn Beck book or my Sarah Palin book out. . Or, of course, I could haul out my Eclipse book and taunt my cousin's wife Vanessa with my scribbling in it. 3 It's fun taunting family. I do it because I love them. :3_

_Chapter Seven_

He could feel her fear. It was a high to him. They would never catch him. They didn't know what they had on their hands. There was no way that could know what they had because he was the greatest killer in the world. Years to come they would still be trying to find him and they would fail. She tried to run, but she was too drunk to be able to move. He had done well in incapacitating this one. He had it all planned out. Get her drunk and then slice her open really nice. Then, he would find the second one to keep the police running.

She had slipped from his grip when he tried to cut her throat and fell to the ground where she was crawling away from him as quickly as she could. That was fine. These streets were a maze and no one knew where they were because she had led him to this place to do her sinful, degrading deeds alone. He grabbed her and she tried to slip away again, this time screaming. He clamped a hand on her mouth to silence her and she bit him. He grit his teeth and pulled her back, snarling. That was when he heard someone coming. He slit her throat twice and dropped her, swearing softly. Damn, he hadn't counted on someone hearing her!

He would get the better part of his joy from the second one. He had planned it out, after all. He stowed the knife away and quickly hid in the pitch black shadows as someone came calling. Silently, he slid past their eyes; his shoes, though fine as they were, made no sound. He stowed his bloody gloves in his pocket and slipped away as the man who had come was running off and screaming for police to arrive. He chuckled to himself. That was one of the perks of being who he was. He got to see the genuine terror on grown men's faces.

Distantly he heard the police whistles. He heard the screams of terror and he fed off of it like an incubus. He made his way to Mitre Square through the maze like streets and alley ways to his next target. She was unsuspecting; she was walking on her way somewhere. She was likely getting a good drink somewhere and headed there for it. They usually were. He made his way closer to her and watched her stop and look at him. "Hello, there," said she, "You look like a nice gent. Want to get a drink with me?" Gently, she put a hand to his chest as though to entice him. "I'll give you a nice bit of payback for it. You're a good looking gent if ever I saw one."

"Am I?" he asked, a smile coming to his lips. "Am I really as handsome as that?"

"Oh, yes, you are," said the whore. He heard people moving away from the square. "I'll take you to a nice place where no one will hear us."

"That would be splendid," said he. When the people had gone, he flicked his eyes to see if there was anyone else coming. None. He saw no one coming. They were all alone in that little square.

"Is there something wrong, Mister?" she asked. "My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir."

He smirked and put a hand over hers on his chest. "Thank you," he said, "I've always been told that." Then, as she turned to show him to a secluded place, he pulled his knife out and sliced her throat open in two strokes. She fell to the ground and jerked as she choked on her own blood. He leaned over her and spoke as she lay dying on the ground. "You whores will always say what you will to get your customer, so I take offense at your claiming me to be a handsome gentleman. Only someone as base as you would regard such flattery as deserved."

* * *

Arthur coughed as he woke up, groaning slightly when he hit his head on something. He looked up blearily and saw that he had hit his head on the trunk of the fairy tree outside in his backyard. When had he come outside? He saw his window open on the second floor and felt a big, painful bruise on his back. He must've crawled out and rolled off the roof to the ground. He looked to the fairy tree and saw it was quiet. Not even the little lights of the fairies could be seen.

He frowned and pushed himself to his feet. Looking up, he climbed slowly into the large tree. "Hello?" he called in a soft voice. "Hello, is anyone in here?" He saw and heard nothing. Frightened by the sudden silence of his fairy tree he stumbled and nearly fell off the tree. He looked around as he backed away. Had he finally become unable to see the fairies or even talk to them?

He ran inside, panting heavily. The place was dark and the darkness made him stumble. He yelped as he accidently cut himself on one of his swords that he kept on the wall and put his hand to his chest. His heart raced in his chest against his throbbing, bleeding hand. "Bernard?" he gasped out. A lamp appeared in the darkness. He saw Bernard coming out from his room downstairs toward Arthur, his night cap on his head.

"Master Kirkland? Are you all right?" he asked. "It's nearly three in the morning."

_**My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir.**_

A wave of nausea came over him. He had been dreaming that like he had been there. No, he had been the killer. Was he sleepwalking now? Had he some separate personality that made him go out and kill those two women? Was that why the fairies had not come out to see him? Was that why he could not see the fairies anymore?

He hurried to the back door and vomited in the garden. Bernard came out after him with some water and a towel and took a seat near him to be ever ready for Arthur should he start to pass out. Arthur kept vomiting even when he felt as though he had nothing left to cough up. He heaved when his stomach was finally empty and he was left shaking with his skin as hot as a brand. When it was over with, Bernard stood and helped Arthur sit down where he had been sitting and wiped his face with a wetted towel, giving Arthur some water to wash his mouth out.

Arthur wept, his body shaking with weakness as he sobbed uncontrollably. Bernard kept by him and continued to try to comfort him as best as he could before he finally just slapped Arthur to get his attention. Arthur looked up at Bernard, panting heavily. "You should get some sleep," said Bernard, "And you should get rid of those substances from your room."

Arthur nodded numbly, looking past Bernard. He saw a unicorn walking toward him. The unicorn was beautiful as she came closer, but then something dreadful happened. As she came closer her body started to decay. Her flesh pulled back, her body decomposed, though she was still coming closer. Her eyes bugged out and her lips pulled back to reveal all her teeth as they fell out. And then, as Arthur whined and tried to get away, she fell in a heap in front of him. Arthur cried out in fear, screaming. Bernard hauled him up and got one of the girls to help him take Arthur up to his room.

"What's wrong with him?" cried the maid.

"Just help me get him into his room!" said Bernard.

They managed to get Arthur into his room where Bernard went through and searched for the laudanum and cocaine. Picking them out, he sighed heavily and afforded Arthur a rather tired look before he put the window down and walked out. Arthur huddled in his bed under the covers until he couldn't cry anymore. After that he slept.

_

* * *

The aid to India came and Aashiyana's weight started to slowly come back to her. Some in India were too starved to save; some of the British citizenry in India had already begun to give out some of their food stores out of pity for the people before the Queen's order had come through. The episodes where she lost blood became fewer and smaller in amount over that time. _

_ Taking the opportunity to go outside, Aashiyana greeted the fairies in the tall, twisted fairy tree. Arthur was away for the day to Parliament, which meant she had the house to mostly herself and Alfred. The fairies soon began to fly around her as they investigated her. She lifted her arms to them and let them dance on her arms. Some sparkled like fire, some like ice, some clad like flowers and leaves, others dressed in the colors of the earth and gemstones. They each had wings on their backs that resembled insect wings and sounded as such as they flitted around her. _

_ "That's a nice old tree," said Alfred as he walked out. The fairies flew away from Aashiyana and left to go back up into the tree when he came closer. _

_ Aashiyana smiled a bit at him. "Yes, it is quite old." Then her smile grew at him. "It looks alive, don't you think?"_

_ Alfred chuckled. "Yeah, it does look pretty alive, doesn't it? You should see some of the forests back home. We get tall pine trees that grow to a hundred feet high or more, but they're very thin so they're easy to break down." Alfred shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "Still, there are some that are like this one; they're really old and thick and all around huge."_

_ Aashiyana let her hands roll on the air so that the fairies that had stayed on her could have something to dance on, speaking to him as she watched them. "The jungles of my home have become quite small as of late. Perhaps I could take you to see them one day." She stopped her motions and looked back at him over her shoulder, a playful smile on her lips. "Of course, I would have to get a mask for you."_

_ "Eh? A mask? Why is that?" asked Alfred._

_ She walked behind him as he looked up at the tree and disappeared from his view, speaking in a light, playful tone. "You see, it's a measure of safety."_

_ "Safety?" asked Alfred as he looked around to see where she was going. She was headed toward another tree._

_ "Yes," she said, looking back at him, "You see, the jungle is home to the fiercest hunters." Then, she hid behind another tree. "Men go out into the jungle to harvest figs and bananas."_

_ "Yes, but why would I have to wear a mask? Do I somehow look like a banana?" asked Alfred. When Alfred received no answer, he walked over to where he had last seen her. She wasn't there at all. Panicking a little, he started calling her name and looking around trees. He heard her giggle and sighed. It was a game. He never was very good at being "it" in a game of hide and seek. "Boy, you're really good at hiding," he said, getting a little frustrated with trying to find her._

_ Out of no where she came out behind him and grabbed both of his wrists and pulled them behind him. One hand came out and pulled his chin up to expose his throat, his back arched backward over her a little thanks to her forcing him into such a prone position. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered into it, making his blood race, "You see, America, the tigress always takes her prey from behind where he can not see."_

_ Alfred flushed faintly. "I.. I see," he said._

_ He could feel her pressing her breasts into his back, her body warm against his. Her fingers moved from his chin and trailed over his cheek gently, stroking his skin. "She stalks and waits, always looking for the light of their eyes."_

_ "Really," said Alfred, his cheeks warming more._

_ "And then she circles around her prey," said Aashiyana, her fingers snaking into his hair at the back of his head and gripping him there, "so that she may surprise him."_

_ "I… I see," said Alfred, grinning a bit, "I'll remember that then."_

_ Aashiyana chuckled against his ear and let him go, moving away a little. "That is why men who venture into the jungle wear a mask on the back of their head. It is to confuse the tiger."_

_ Alfred chuckled and put his hands into his pockets again, clearly trying to be a good boy. "I see!" he said cheerfully. Aashiyana smiled at him gently and then walked over to the marble fountain in the garden where she sat on a bench. "It's a nice place here, isn't it?" he asked as he followed after her and sat down beside her. She picked a lily from the pond not far from them and looked at it, frowning deeply. "Eh? What's wrong?"_

_ "I had not planned on staying in England long," said Aashiyana as she delicately touched the lily, smiling sadly, "Today is Ram Navami. I would be dancing outside to celebrate the birth of Lord Rama. If I was home, that is."_

_ "Well, why don't you dance here then," said Alfred, grinning brilliantly at Aashiyana, "This place could use the extra color."_

_ She smiled gently and started to put the lily back down. "No, I haven't the music to dance to."_

_ Alfred sat for a moment as he watched her place the lily back in the pond. Then, he clapped his hands and kicked the foot of the marble bench they sat on to find a good rhythm. When that didn't seem sufficient to him, he stood up and walked inside. He soon came back down and brought out a Native American drum that he had brought from home. She smiled at him, making his cheeks warm once again, as she walked over and showed him the proper rhythm for the holiday. He learned it fairly quickly and grinned at her when he finally got it. She smiled at him a moment before straightening the pale blue satin saari she wore that day and picked up the lily, moving toward the fairy tree. She stood a moment to feel the slow beat he rapped out on his drum before she began to move with the lily in her hands. First she moved the lily toward the sky as if in offering and then placed it on the ground with care before moving around the lily on the ground to the beat of the drum. _

_ Her hands and arms moved in intricate patterns, her hips and body moved, her feet and ankles moved, every part of her flowed with movement as she continues to dance around the flower to the beat. Alfred couldn't help but stare at her as though she were casting a spell on him. Then, she broke out in a song and he nearly dropped his drum. He recovered quickly and, with only a minor interruption in the beat, he continued drumming for her. Her hands moved to her heart and then to the sky and touched her forehead as though anointed with a higher power. Her veil and fabrics flowed around her with soft whispering sounds. Then, when it was all over and she was knelt down to the lily with her hands over her heart, he stopped playing and put his drum down to applaud her. _

_ He stood up and walked over to her and knelt down beside her. She was still a bit thin and weak, but the dancing and celebrating had brought a bright glow back to her. She was more alive than he had seen of her in the past several weeks. She smiled gently at him and said, "Thank you. Lord Rama would smile upon you for helping me."_

_ Alfred's gaze was gentle and warm, his eyes the color of the sky. "I'm glad I could help you. I'm sure I'd like this Lord Rama guy, too, if I ever met him, so I'm glad to do what I can to make his day better," said Alfred, "But most especially yours."_

_ "Lord Rama died long ago," said Aashiyana, "He was an incarnation of Great Vishnu."_

_ Alfred smiled at her a bit more and nodded. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long while and then slowly, ever so slowly, Alfred leaned closer to her. He felt drawn to her like a fly to honey. She didn't move away from him or stop him, so he just kept moving closer to her until he brushed his lips in a feather light kiss against her lips. His lips moved in gentle, light motions against her lips for a moment before he pulled back a fraction to open those sky blue eyes and look into her black and green eyes. The green of her eyes was cold, unfeeling, an unnatural invasion into the warm black of her natural gaze. She lifted her hands to his face and carefully adjusted his glasses so that she could see his eyes better. _

_ His eyes warmed more at the gentle touches she gave him. He kissed her fingers gently and then leaned into her again. Her kiss was surprisingly soft and innocent given the situations that they had been put into together. His fingers trailed over her cheek to her ear where he pushed some of her hair behind it. His heart beat like the drum he had just been using, thumping in his chest quickly as she leaned more into him. Her free hand, the one not holding the lily, moved down from his cheek to his chest where she felt the beat of his heart against her fingers. His own hand moved down to hers and stroked her knuckles with his thumb. _

_ She pulled back slightly, very slightly, to allow him to breathe. "Is this a request for trade?" she asked softly. Alfred laughed and smiled at her._

_ "I like women with free spirits," he said._

_ "I am not a free spirit," said Aashiyana, "I am simply not repressed as the manners of this age dictates of a woman."_

_ Alfred gently stroked her knuckles again with his thumb as he gazed at her, his smile warm. "To me you seem to fly like a bird, even while you are grounded. You are you and you pretend to be nothing else. To me, I love that most in a woman."_

_ "I have never been anything else," said Aashiyana softly, smiling more at his words._

_ "And that is what I like most about you," said Alfred. Aashiyana smiled even more and leaned up into Alfred and pressed her lips against his. Alfred kissed her in earnest. He didn't flare up like Arthur tended to do, but he was warm and honest in every motion he made. He wrapped his arms around her slowly and held her closer to him; he reveled in her warm kiss and warmer arms. She leaned back so that he lay on top of her. He took his glasses off as they slipped down into her face and chuckled softly when he came back to her lips. He coaxed her mouth to open and groaned when she accepted him; their tongues moving against each other in slow, languid motions. Her hands, which had been praising Lord Rama before, were now moving over his broad frame, examining every muscle. His hands moved over her body, touching her in small, gentle motions that elicited just a little more from her with every touch._

_ He panted warm breath against her lips as he moved back just a little from them, his eyes having grown much warmer in their embrace. Then, he smiled at her, a broad grin the shone brilliantly. "You taste as wonderful as you smell," he said._

_ "Is that so?" she asked, chuckling just a little. He chuckled as well as he leaned back down and kissed her again, stroking her ears once more with his fingers. She moaned just a little at such touches, making him do it more to hear her. _

_ A soft cough alerted them to the presence of Bernard. Alfred's cheeks flushed considerably as he sat up to look at Bernard, Aashiyana sat up after he lifted away from her to see what the butler wanted. Bernard's eyes were closed as he held up a tray of tea in his hands. "As much as I would hate to intrude on International Affairs," said Bernard, "Master Kirkland usually comes home around this time when he goes off to Parliament."_

_ Alfred's lips set in a grim line as he stood away from Aashiyana. He offered her a hand and helped her stand up from the ground before dusting grass off his shirt and trousers. "Why do you look so sour?" asked Aashiyana. Alfred looked to her and flushed a bit more as he looked away, laughing a little._

_ "Let's go inside and have some good English tea," said Alfred, "It's better than Arthur's personal cooking, I can tell you that."_

_ "What is troubling you?" she asked again._

_ Alfred, for a moment, looked away from her, turning his broad, strong back to her. He looked off as he straightened his hair. "Don't worry on it, okay?" He looked over his shoulder, smiling still at her, but it faded as she watched him expectantly. "I don't want to upset Arthur. Not like this, anyway. I'm sure if we continued as we were he would come out here and try to kill me for touching his girl."_

_ She looked away as she whispered, "Of course." The lily, which she had danced around and held in her hand so delicately, had been crushed by their activities. "It would be concerning to come home to find his Colony in the arms of," she stopped herself and the bitterness in her tone seemed to dissipate a little, "Yes, I understand."_

_ Alfred moved closer to her in an instant, his hands cupping her cheeks. He kissed with far more passion than he had before, with far more gentleness than he had before. For her part she responded to him, though she was slow to do so. She moaned softly into his mouth as she gripped his shirt in her hands. When he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes directly, he said in a soft, though determined, voice, "Don't ever let the empire and society ever make you any less than what you are. Never let yourself be dulled down and fit into a perfect little box of what a woman should be."_

_ Aashiyana looked at him in surprise, her cheeks flushed a little. He smiled more at her as she leaned into his warm hands and closed her eyes. He stroked her cheeks with his fingers a moment before he moved away and took her hand in his. "Come on," he said, "Tea is waiting." At that she smiled and followed him inside._

_ Arthur walked in a little later than expected. He gave his hat and cane to Bernard to put away before making his way to the sitting room where Aashiyana and Alfred were sitting and enjoying some tea and some of Alfred's stories. "And then that's when I told the girls, I said 'Hey! Stop tugging on me! Look, I'll do whatever you want of me, just don't fight over me!' So, from that point on, I've had to come to them whenever they call for me; even if now I've got over forty of them to deal with." He chuckled, as did Aashiyana, as he drank some of his tea. "It's not so bad, honestly, though I guess it could be tiring to anyone else," he laughed, "But I'm so used to it now that I don't even think about it anymore. Used to be they would just invite me over to have dinner or lunch or tea so that I would pay attention to them, but now it's a lot different."_

_ Arthur smiled a little as he watched Aashiyana laugh. She almost looked like herself again, though she could still stand to gain some more weight. Alfred looked up at him as Arthur entered and grinned brilliantly at him. "Hey! I was just telling Aashiyana some stories!" Arthur nodded to Alfred, though a part of him felt something different. Alfred had been there all day with Aashiyana while she was in a lot better health…_

_ "The better tales come from England always," said Arthur as he sat down and poured himself some tea. Arthur noticed Alfred was a little flushed and a bit messier looking than usual. He especially forgot his glasses. Arthur gripped his saucer a little tighter than necessary as he noted that._

_ "I don't suppose any news of home was discussed in Parliament today," said Aashiyana._

_ "The efforts of Britain and Greece giving aid is helping," said Arthur as he sipped his tea, "Some think the Indians should rot, though. Personally, I'm surprised America hasn't tried to have a go, given how often they keep crying about helping people lesser than themselves." At that he noticed Alfred's cheeks turn a bit pinker, his body stiffening slightly._

_ "The United States is still recovering from their War Between The States," said Aashiyana, "I hardly expected them to lend aid. Besides, I'm a British protectorate."_

_ "That you are," said Arthur, his tone just a bit stronger than before. Alfred frowned deeply at him, looking a bit angry with Arthur, though Arthur blatantly ignored him. Aashiyana, meanwhile, kept composed, though the stiffness in her body was more pronounced. _

_ Alfred reached down and touched his stomach where Arthur knew there was likely a split from the civil war that was still healing up. Arthur eyed him a moment as Alfred stood up and said, "I'm going to bed a bit early, all right?" Arthur shrugged and bit into a scone as Alfred walked way from the sitting room._

_ "Good night, then, Alfred," said Aashiyana as she turned a bit to see him off. Arthur noticed something off colored on Aashiyana's pale blue saari. The stain indeed looked to have been made by grass. Arthur dropped his tea cup a little harder than necessary onto his saucer, the sound echoing sharply. It made Aashiyana stiffen greatly and Alfred stop and look over at him. "Arthur, you're going to kill your good china if you do things to it like that," said Alfred._

_ When Arthur said nothing, Alfred stayed put and watched Arthur. Arthur could feel the debate in him, could get the faint impressions of Alfred and Aashiyana's kissing in the grass next to the fairy tree, and could feel the beat of the drum that Alfred had used for the ritual. When he looked to Aashiyana his eyes were hot and angry; they looked betrayed. He regained some of his composure as he took up his tea and sipped more of it, despite the fact that his hands shook slightly. "You said you were heading up early, Alfred," he said._

_ "Arthur," said Alfred._

_ "Leave."_

_ Arthur listened as Alfred walked away after a moment and put his own tea cup down. Arthur stood up and started to leave when Aashiyana said, "You've left half of a scone on your plate."_

_ "I'm not that hungry," said Arthur._

_ "Come now," said Aashiyana, "You've been at work all day." She wasn't looking at him, though. She was busying herself with studying the design on the cup in her hands. _

_ "I said that I am not hungry," said Arthur slowly, his tone rather dangerous sounding._

_ "Very well," she said softly. With that, Arthur turned and walked away up to his room. The clouds were gathering overhead as he pulled his tie off, his waistcoat and jacket, and opened his shirt some. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and sat down in a chair by the windows to drink his fill of it. Thunder rolled overhead as though to imitate his stormy mood. Likely Alfred was hiding under his covers by then. He knew he heard one of the maids, little Emily or Olivia, in his room with him. He heard Aashiyana go to her room and close the door, likely to change for bed. _

_ Arthur stood up and put his bottle of scotch down and walked to the window to look out at the angry horizon. The fairies had all retreated into the tree until not a single one of their little, pretty lights could be seen. He walked out of his room quietly and went to Aashiyana's. He knocked on it and walked in when she told him to come in, closing it behind him. He leaned on the door as he watched her pulled her sleeping wrap around her and secured it tightly. She looked up at him and then moved to her vanity where she sat and took her hair out of its braid and took her jewelry off one piece at a time._

_ As she placed her jewelry into her suitcase Arthur finally spoke up. "You were snogging him weren't you," he said._

_ Aashiyana smiled faintly as she closed her suitcase. "He helped me celebrate one of my holidays."_

_ "Oh, so you go about snogging anyone who helps you celebrate a holiday, then? I should probably do that. It would be nice to have one of Alfred's girls around to have a go with under the mistletoe at Christmas," said Arthur._

_ Aashiyana kept her back to him. "He said he likes my 'free spirit'. I was happy for the company he provided me with."_

_ "The bloody fucker loves anything that's pretty and female," snapped Arthur._

_ Aashiyana looked over at Arthur finally. "Are you trying to become a cobra, Britain? Your words are trying to become venom."_

_ In a few steps he was closer to her. He grabbed her and pulled her hard against him. His lips pressed hard against hers. When she didn't respond and tensed a bit at his advances, Arthur pulled back a bit and glared at her angrily. "Are his kisses more pleasant than mine, then?"_

_ "They're different than yours," she said softly._

_ At that, Arthur moved sharply from her as though she disgusted him. Aashiyana frowned at him and pulled a shawl around her shoulders. "I don't see why you are so upset," she said._

_ "Don't see why?" Arthur scoffed._

_ Aashiyana sat down on the bed and frowned more. "No."_

_ "The answer is simple enough," said Arthur, "You belong to me." He walked over to her, once again very quickly, and grabbed her by her shoulders, lifting her up from the bed. "You belong to no one else!"_

_ Her eyes hardened as she shrugged out of his grip. "That hasn't changed at all."_

_ "Oh, hasn't it?" said Arthur. He grunted and walked out, slamming the door behind him. _

_ "_Of course it hasn't_," snapped Aashiyana in Hindi as she followed after him. "_I'm still the British Raj! That hasn't changed one bit! You're being ridiculous!!_"_

_Arthur grabbed her and shoved her into his room with little announcement. She landed on the floor with a yelp as he slammed and locked the door behind him. "You are a protectorate. You have no right to yell at me whatsoever. You have no right to call me ridiculous anymore than you do that fucking wall!"_

_ Arthur then grabbed her up from the floor and shoved her down underneath him on the bed. She cried out in surprise and shoved at him. He took hold of her wrists and tried to shove them down as she fought to get him off her. "Stop it! Let go of me this instant!" she cried out._

_ "No!"_

_ He was rewarded by her head slamming into his, though with less force than he was accustomed to getting from his older brothers Scotland and Ireland. Otherwise, Arthur would have been laid out cold. Instead, he just hurt. Aashiyana took the moment to break free from Arthur's grasp and shove at him. There was a knock at the door and Arthur knew it was Alfred. "GO AWAY!" he shouted._

_ Alfred attempted to open the door, but couldn't get through it. Arthur took the moment of silence to kiss Aashiyana again, but she moved her head away from him sharply. Arthur's fingers trembled against her wrists as he fought to shove them back down again. Was Alfred really that much more special that him? Was Alfred that much more desirable than him? _

_ Alfred banged on the door this time. "Arthur! Don't you dare hurt her!" he shouted through the door. Looking to Aashiyana, Arthur noticed she was trembling and huddling away from him. Defeated, he moved away from her. _

_ "Did you agree with them?" gasped Aashiyana, tears coming to her eyes, her voice breaking. "Did you?! Did you agree with those people saying that my people should rot?! Did you even try to defend my people or did you just sit there and oblige your queen!"_

_ Arthur went to the window and unlatched it. He opened it up and walked out to the balcony slowly. The rain had already begun and splattered his face as the wind ripped around him. He smiled as the rain cooled him and calmed him despite how angry it was. Distantly, he heard her shout at him. "Answer me!!"_

_ "Why would I want to let one of my colonies die?" he asked softly._

_ Her voice turned bitter as he felt her eyes move away from his back. "Of course," she said, "You wouldn't want to lose that investment."_

_ "I don't want to lose you," said Arthur, "Just as I didn't want to lose Alfred. Of course, the little git decided he was going to break away from me anyway. Never mind old England, he's only going to sit all alone and feel bad. He doesn't really need me."_

_Arthur could feel her defeated feelings as the wind and rain washed away the pomade from his hair. It took away the cologne in his skin and the smells of tea. What was left was the smell of rain, wind, grass, flowers. He smelled most strongly of the sea, however. "You should leave to your room," he said softly, "I need to cool my head a little while longer."_

_ "Is that an order?" she asked. She sounded less of herself and more of a caged thing, a broken little bird. _

_ "Do you want it to be a fucking order?" asked Arthur in a sharp tone._

_ Aashiyana's voice was soft, "I want you to be able to trust me."_

_ Arthur should not have expected any less from the Indians. They took people relatively freely and Alfred was charismatic, bright, cheerful and fun. He was everything that Arthur was not. "I don't know about that right now," said Arthur. No matter what Greece had said about their relationships not being so unlike normal people. Relationships were different for them than normal people. Alfred had over forty women whom he was obligated to please in any manner they wished of him. Most people would balk at such a thing, but Alfred took it in stride and dealt with it. Most people would say that what he and the State Girls had was wrong or sinful, but Alfred seemed truly blessed and the girls he kept never wanted to break away from him. _

_ Likewise, India had her own way of doing things and seeing things. She belonged to him legally, but that meant little to her if she wanted to do something. It meant little… _

_ Gently, Arthur smiled at Aashiyana from over his shoulder. The rain streaked his face and hid the tears he could feel falling from his eyes. The look in Aashiyana's gaze softened as she looked to him as her tone gentled as well. "You will catch your death out there," she said._

_ "I like the rain," said Arthur. With that, he walked more out into the rain and tilted his head up into it. He listened as she walked to the door and spoke to Alfred and reassured him that everything was all right. Arthur hardly cared now, though. Instead, he just let the rain wash away the emptiness he was feeling. If she wanted to do things her way then that was fine. He couldn't leash her, he couldn't cage her; it would make her stop being something that drew him to her like a moth to a flame. She was a fairytale queen and he had fallen in love with her._

_ After a while, Arthur eventually came back in and closed and locked the windows before going off to take off his clothes and dry off. He hardly cared that Aashiyana was watching him as he stripped down. Water droplets rolled over his skin, over his chest and stomach to his trousers as he pulled each garment off carefully and set them on a chair to dry. Then, he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off with his back to Aashiyana as she sat on the bed watching him._

_ "I'm sorry I scared you," he said softly, "You should go get some sleep, Aashiyana."_

_ Aashiyana laughed half-heartedly. "_You hardly scared me._" As he continued to dry himself off slowly, she spoke in barely a whisper in Hindi. "_You have always frightened me_," she_ _said. Arthur turned to look at her, his towel in front of his groin. She wasn't looking at him. Instead she was looking away to the floor as she rubbed the end of her shawl in her fingers. "_You hold so much power, so much influence over me_," she said, "_If I misbehaved, didn't follow your societal rules; it would only take but a suggestion for the health of my people to disappear entirely. The food stores would close to them, the aid would cease; the taxes would increase and my culture would be raped._"_

_ She put a hand over her eyes, though he could see she trembled. "_So, I am sorry, Britain. I apologize for my misconduct earlier. I had not meant to offend you._"_

_ Arthur's voice was rough when he finally spoke, "Do not apologize to me." He was fighting to hold back the sudden urge to go to her and hold her. She looked so defeated. She looked exactly the way he hoped he would never see from her. He tried to smile and comfort her in a gentlemanly manner as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. "Why don't you go ahead and go to sleep."_

_ "_Do you wish me to sleep here in this bed or am I allowed to go to my own?_" asked Aashiyana. Her words wounded him even more, but he tried not to show it._

_ "Do as you wish," he said softly. Aashiyana stood up and walked out of the room calmly, though he could feel the sharp pain in her heart. He shut himself from her entirely. He had wounded her far worse than anything he could have done with his fists. He had broken her spirit._

_ Distantly, he heard Alfred shouting in his sleep. "RELOAD! RELOAD!" he shouted. "GET THE BODIES OUT OF THE WAY!" The civil war had done more mental damage to Alfred than he let on. No doubt Alfred dreamed of those days often and had the maid with him to keep him company and help the dreams disappear. He heard Alfred sobbing for a few moments before he quieted down with the aid of the maid with him. Again, Arthur was wounded deeply to hear such a thing from his dear little brother America. Bernard was right about one thing in particular: no matter how much Arthur tried to pass himself off as being indifferent to Alfred, he really did care about the boy. With the rain still hitting the window, Arthur fell asleep in time, though he spent much of it staring out at the back sky and the lightning. _


	8. Chapter Eight

_A/N: man, I'm glad ya'll love this because so do I. XD My dear Jonnyboy keeps being put backseat to APH, but I'm being deliberate in taking my time. I want him to be as perfect as I can make him. I plan on kicking Twilight out of the water and any other crappy novel out there for teens. Of course, Jonnyboy is hardly for teens unless you like sex, drugs and blood and gore… oh wait. _

_He doesn't mind, though. Jonny's quite content to sit back with his Iggy brows and sip some tea. In the mean time, Arthur gets my unwanted attention. Heh heh heh heh heh… God I love fucking him up. XD_

_Also… Aashiyana is not mine. She was thought up by my friend Alexiel. Mia/California isn't mine either. She too was thought up by my friend Alexiel. _

_Chapter Eight_

"Master Kirkland, I'm terribly sorry, but I must disturb you," said Bernard. Arthur groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. He felt like he couldn't even manage to open his eyes much less move. His back hurt, his stomach hurt, his head hurt; everything hurt.

"What is it," grumbled Arthur.

"Inspector Abberline has sent one of his subordinates for you to come with him," said Bernard.

Arthur pulled the pillow from his eyes and looked over at Bernard. Bernard looked very apologetic, as apologetic as he allowed himself to look given his usual demeanor. Arthur sighed and shoved himself up from his bed and wobbled to his wash basin. Bernard walked over and set down the tray of tea and a light breakfast for Arthur to eat before he went anywhere. There was indeed a large bruise on Arthur's back where he had landed on the ground after falling onto the roof from the balcony and rolling down to the ground. What bothered Arthur the most was, however, and this was something that was making his hands shake terribly with the prospect of being discovered so near at hand, that he was perhaps the killer in some strange capacity.

_**My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir.**_

He put a hand to his mouth and shook again as he tried to get a hold of himself. There was no way he was the killer! Arthur was many things, but a psychopathic murder he was not! Arthur had to shove the memories from his mind in order to keep himself from heaving again as he had before. He could still smell the blood in his nostrils and yet how could he have been there? Had he formed some sort of split personality? Had he finally gone insane?

"I've taken the liberty of destroying your bottles of laudanum and absinthe," said Bernard, "Just in case you think you've misplaced them yourself."

Arthur snorted and wiped his face. "I'm fine without them."

"And your cocaine as well, sir," said Bernard.

"I said I'm fine without them," said Arthur. He walked over to his dresser and started pulling out his shirt and under shorts.

Bernard eyed him a moment and then shook his head. "Do not get more," said Bernard, "If you get more you will hurt yourself worse."

"I said I'll be fine without them!" snapped Arthur as he slammed his wardrobe closed. Bernard looked up at him. For the first time Arthur saw him oddly clearly. Bernard looked so old, so weary. How long had Bernard been with him? Arthur couldn't even remember. Bernard had been such a close asset to him for the longest time, helping him with many problems and letting Arthur talk to him. He had been an older man when Arthur had hired him on, an old soldier and medic; he had never been young as long as Arthur had known him. He was still strong, still spry, but, now that Arthur saw him, he was an old man.

Time flew by so fast for him and the other nations that Arthur hardly ever thought about how much the normal people changed around them, how short their lives were in comparison. Arthur, Alfred, Aashiyana, they were the representations of the people of their countries. While they looked, acted, breathed, lived and love as humans, they were so much more different than everyone else. If the country finally died out, if things changed so dramatically as to render the country as something else entirely, they too would die. Their fates were tied to the people of the countries. Their lives were tied to the nations. It was a very sobering reminder that while he looked like a man, he was not a man made by God, but a man made by man. They didn't actively take part in his creation, but they made him because he was them by default. Perhaps this was a great big joke by God himself to create the nation personifications. Perhaps it was the Devil's experiment.

And Bernard would one day leave him no matter if Arthur was made by God or the Devil. Bernard would one day die of old age, of sickness or by other means. He would die and Arthur would once again have to find a butler that was even half as good as Bernard that Arthur could trust with such secrets as he had. He would die and go to Heaven and Arthur would be alone again.

Arthur looked away sharply to the water as he felt tears slip over his cheeks. He was such a sentimental idiot! His body started to hurt a bit and refused to do much else but hunch over his washbasin as he tried to keep his tears to a minimum. Even if Bernard was his friend, Arthur couldn't stay off the substances for long. He needed them to keep going; especially the cocaine. The absinthe at the very least made things bearable when he came home; it helped him remember better times when Aashiyana was there. Though those times had been terrible, they were preferable to the terrible hole that her absence created.

"Master Kirkland," said Bernard, "Shall I go ahead and serve the constable some tea while he waits for you to be ready, sir?"

"Yes," said Arthur, his voice tight.

Bernard watched him for a long moment before he nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. When he left, Arthur panted heavily as he got a hold of himself and walked over to eat a little something before going downstairs to see the constable. The Chief Inspector had said they had no need of him, so why was his junior asking for him to come? Perhaps Abberline was not informed by his senior officer as to how unnecessary Arthur was to them.

Arthur ate slowly, drank his tea slowly, and tried to make sure he could at least keep it down well enough for himself, though he felt a bit queasy still. He stood up and went to the wash room where his shaving supplies was kept and made sure he was well groomed, though his cheeks stood out a little still and he had gray circles under his eyes. From those gray circles, from beneath the thick blond eyebrows, his unnaturally bright green eyes stood out as though they held a light all their own.

_**My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir.**_

He shoved himself away from the mirror in front of him and knocked over the washbasin, watching it hit the tile and break into thick, ceramic pieces. The dirtied water ran along the tile to the drain slowly as he stared at it.

_Her blood was warm as he delved into her body. Her intestines he placed around her as he gutted her. Her organs he placed around her as he cut them out. He clipped her ear off with his knife and lost it in her clothes. The blood slowly moved away from him to the nearby gutter as it went away from him down the street and through the cracks of the stones in the street. _

Arthur put his hands to his face and panted heavily as he tried to get a hold of himself. That was not him! There was no way that had been him! Why would he go off and mutilate someone for the sport of it? Arthur had a temper, but he was hardly a sadistic psychopath like this monster was!

He pulled his hands away from his face and ran into the back wall behind him as he shouted out in fear. His hands, though wet with water, were covered in watery blood, as though he had just washed his hands of the blood. The water draining away was just as red. He breathed quickly as his heart raced in his chest, his hands shaking terribly. What if he really did have some split personality? What if he really did have some shadow personality that laughed at him while he slept, gave him the nightmares he had while he slept and then new nightmares while Arthur was unconscious?

"Arthur?"

Arthur's heart stopped. He recognized that voice. He looked up at the mirror and beside him in his reflection was Elizabeth. She smiled at him through the reflection. He blinked and moved closer to the mirror. "El… Elizabeth? My queen?" he asked softly.

She looked as she had at the beginning of her reign, her long fiery hair pulled up nicely, her face, though determined and stern most of the time, was smiling gently at him as she gazed at him. He trembled as he reached out and touched the mirror, tears in his eyes. "Elizabeth," he whispered.

Then, all at once, her face decayed in front of him. Her eyes bugged out, her skin peeled away and dropped off. Her face gave way to a permanently grinning skull as he stared, his heart beating wildly, his breathing quicker than ever. He moved sharply from the mirror as he saw her walk toward him, still decaying, just like that unicorn before. "No! No! Get away from me!" he cried as he backed into the wall behind him.

The door was kicked in and the constable stood looking in, a bit white faced. "Are you all right, sir? I'm sorry about the door. We had been calling after you through the door and trying to get you to unlock it."

They had been calling him? Arthur trembled terribly as he slid down the wall and put a hand to his face. For a moment he didn't speak as he tried to calm himself, his other hand clutching his shirt over his racing heart. "Y… yes, I am fine," he said. "I… I just thought I saw something dreadful…"

The constable looked back at Bernard who kept his face as serene as possible. Bernard nodded to the constable and then walked past him into the bathroom where he picked up the pieces of the wash basin and set them down on the table. He walked over to Arthur and kneeled down in front of him; grabbing him by his shoulders and helping him stand up. "Are you all right, Master Kirkland?" he asked.

"_I… I saw her_," he whispered softly in Hindi, "_I saw Elizabeth…just like I saw that unicorn last night_." Had Bernard even known what Arthur had seen? "_I.. I saw a unicorn last night… it decayed in front of me as it came to me. E.. Elizabeth did the same._"

Bernard eyed him a long moment and brushed him down, nodding. "I see, sir," he said in English. The constable frowned at them deeply. Arthur knew the man likely didn't know any other language than English, which was why Arthur chose to speak in one that Bernard knew, but also knew that speaking in another language in front of the constable was likely very suspicious. For the moment Arthur felt it was more important to try as much as possible to keep this insanity away from the constable.

Bernard helped Arthur stand back up and went back to cleaning up the mess Arthur had caused. Arthur, meanwhile, went over to the constable. "I must apologize, constable, I've… not been sleeping well."

"Are you ready to go to Abberline then, sir," asked the constable, "I'm fairly certain Inspector Abberline and Chief Inspector Moore have waited long enough."

"Yes, yes, of course," muttered Arthur, walked out to pull on his jacket before going down the stairs and pulling on his coat and hat and pulled his cane out. He walked out with the constable to the cab waiting and got in with him. When they reached the station Arthur was escorted up to the office where Abberline and Moore were waiting for him.

"So His Majesty has deigned to grace us with his appearance," said Moore, "My junior seems to think you might still be useful."

_ There were two murders that morning around 1 a.m. and 1:30 a.m. respectfully. He had struck again like he said he would._

"About the murders this morning?" asked Arthur, looking less than pleased to be greeted so unpleasantly by Moore. It hit him belatedly that Arthur had actually felt that come from Abberline instead of hearing him speak it. "Sorry, I feel out of sorts today, I'm afraid," he said as he rubbed his forehead and sat down. Maybe his abilities weren't being subdued anymore. Arthur felt sick and weak and incredibly tired despite sleeping and eating something finally. Maybe Bernard was wrong and the effects of the drugs had not inhibited his ability at all, but then why could he still not see his fairies? Maybe it knocked down one part of his sixth sense and accentuated another. Arthur had no idea.

Or maybe he was the killer and he was mad.

The constable moved closer to Moore and whispered into his ear before being dismissed. More than likely the constable told Moore about what had transpired in Arthur's house while Arthur had been in the bathroom. Arthur closed his eyes and attempted to concentrate on what was going through Moore's mind, but it was difficult. Of course, he had never had need to even practice such a thing before. Likely Arthur would end up being a suspect if he didn't pull some sort of miraculous parlor trick from up his sleeve to get the suspicion off of him. Even if he was the murderer, no good would come of him being locked up or hanged.

"They used to burn men like me," said Arthur, flicking his gaze through his fingers to Chief Inspector Moore. "I should apologize for my tardiness. I haven't had much sleep for a while, much less last night."

"Seeing demons and ghosts, Sir Arthur?" asked Moore, eyeing him still.

"Seeing my worst nightmares," said Arthur, "The constable is not lying. He saw a mess when he walked into that washroom and I was in no sound mind to see anyone. What didn't see was what flashed through my mind when I was in the bathroom as well as while I was abed."

Moore looked interested, though very skeptical, as to what Arthur had to say. Abberline seemed the more open to Arthur than Moore. "I'm not the murderer," said Arthur, looking directly at Moore, "I'm many things, but I am not the murderer. I know that's what you were thinking just now. I can feel it in my head."

"Really," said Moore.

"Six… one, one, one, nine, have a little pony, jinx," said Arthur. Moore looked a bit pale. Arthur smirked devilishly on the inside, but kept his face as straight as possible on the outside. "As I said… I do have some psychic ability." He had picked off the right things as Moore had thought of them; however it made Arthur feel very tired after doing so much with that particular part of his capabilities. "I saw the murders in my dreams," said Arthur when Moore sat down. Arthur closed his eyes in order to look like he was trying to imagine them, but in reality he hardly needed to; the images burned into his mind like he had actually been there.

"The first was cut across the throat twice. He had been interrupted. He went on to Mitre Square where he found the second woman standing about," said Arthur. My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir. Arthur grunted and tried to put that out of his mind quickly. "He's got green eyes. She remarked on it. He pulled her open and went in. He knows about human anatomy. He deliberately went in looking for her kidneys; however, he also decided to play a while before finishing up."

"That's in the report," said Abberline, "The coroner said he felt that the kidney missing was the prime target instead of the female parts this time. Can you tell us why?"

Something flashed into Arthur's head without his say so. He saw the commissioner Warren ordering something erased off a wall. He could see several people writing something down. There was a constable putting a piece of bloody cloth away into a safe place. Arthur frowned and opened his eyes. "What was erased off of a wall in…Goulston Street?"

"The Juwes are not the men who will not be blamed for nothing," said Moore, "There was a piece of the second woman's apron covered in blood near the wall."

"He's intelligent," said Abberline, "That much is definitely certain."

"With obsessive and compulsive behaviors," said Arthur, "And knows a thing or two about human anatomy." Arthur rubbed his face and sighed, his head starting to hurt badly. He had pushed himself too far. He needed to get something for his headache badly. "I'm afraid that I need to cut this short. I'm not feeling very well."

"We'll send for you when we have a need to read some bones," said Moore, though with less sarcasm than usual. Arthur smiled faintly and left the station to hail a cab back home. He stopped himself and instead started to walk. He didn't know where he was walking, but he had the need to. He slowly began to feel as though he were being watched again, but from where he couldn't discern through the pain in his head. He went to a pharmacist and got some cocaine to help keep his energy up incase he had need to run, he also went and found a place to get some laudanum. Then, he stopped off and picked up a bottle of absinthe. Now, the only thing Arthur had to do was get home and hide the things he bought before Bernard would know.

Arthur kept himself away until it was Bernard's dinner time, using that moment to let himself into the house and go up to his room where he put his newly bought things away where Bernard wouldn't look. Arthur looked over as there was a knock at the door, straightening up to stretch and pull his tie out. "Come in?" he said.

Bernard opened the door and eyed him a moment. "Master Kirkland, could you not get yourself a carriage?"

"I felt like walking a while. I needed to think," said Arthur as he smoothed his hair back.

"Indeed," said Bernard, still eyeing him suspiciously.

"I have a headache, Bernard," said Arthur, "Would you hold dinner until later? I need to rest." Bernard nodded and moved away, closing the door behind him. Arthur waited a few minutes, his eyes closed and trying to will some of the throbbing to leave his head before he moved from his bed and pulled the absinthe and laudanum from their hiding places and poured himself a glass and put some of the laudanum into it, putting them away and pulling out his bottle of scotch instead in case Bernard came in. He doubted Bernard could tell the difference of smell between the different alcohols and the laudanum.

_

* * *

The next morning Aashiyana was not in her room. Arthur stared at her empty bed, her cloak gone, her violet English-made dress, her new corset and her coin purse all gone. Arthur's heart seemed to not be beating in his chest; it felt as though it had disappeared entirely and what was left was a cavernous, empty feeling. Alfred was darting around the house looking for Aashiyana while Arthur continued to stare at the place where Aashiyana had been the night before. _

_ Well, he had been particularly cruel before. He had been very harsh and mean to her. He deserved this abandonment. He deserved her ire. He deserved her leaving him. He hardly deserved anything better for what he had done to her. He hardly deserved any of her caring or… her love._

_ Arthur had come to grasp that he was indeed in love with Aashiyana during the night. He was her sovereign, though. She would never be his equal in this situation. She could never be his equal so long as he had rightful control of her. But he never had control over her to begin with, did he? So, Arthur hid that feeling as deep inside his own heart as he could and then woke to find her gone and his heart gone as well with fear in its place as the thought of her getting lost or hurt or raped came to his mind. Only then did he move, though a bit sluggishly, to the hall closet where he pulled his coat and hat on and watched numbly as Alfred darted out the door past him with his long coat and hat on._

_ It was raining in heavy sheets on them as they looked around the street. The thickness of the rain made if difficult to see and Alfred's glasses were getting hit by the water so much he constantly had to pull them off and wipe them down on his waistcoat and then put them back on. "Arthur, you take that direction and I'll take this one!" said Alfred before he ran off quickly through the street. Arthur watched him a long moment before he finally began walking in the opposite direction. What was the point of trying to find her when she would only hate him? No, he needed to find her to make sure she was all right. There were far worse things than him any day or night in London._

_ He made his way to the docks, a journey in itself. The people around him seemed faceless as he moved by them. When he made it to the docks, he found Alfred looking around and shouting, "Aashiyana!! Aashiyana! Where are you?" He looked more than a little lost as he waded through the people and sailors. As Arthur walked closer Alfred noticed him and made his way over to him. "This place is like a maze," said Alfred, "I can't find her anywhere!"_

_ Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred and pulled his hat off. His messy blonde hair was drenched in a minute from all the rain pouring down on them. He pushed his fingers into his hair and smoothed it back before he put his hat back on and looked toward the East End. "You head toward the parks, Alfred," he said._

_ "I'm getting lost in this place! No way! I'm going with you!" said Alfred. _

_ "You're fucking useless," muttered Arthur. Alfred rolled his eyes at Arthur, but followed after him as they made their way toward the east. It was a place where mostly the lower class citizens lived, which he felt would be a perfect place to hide as well as a dangerous place to go. The streets were narrow and the spaces between buildings grew smaller. It was so closed in that one could feel claustrophobic. _

_ "This place doesn't look too pleasant," said Alfred as he kept his pace slower than usual to keep by Arthur's side. _

_ "It's Whitechapel," said Arthur, "Filled to the brim with crime and unfortunate sorts of people. Whores are frequent here as are thieves so keep an eye on your pockets." Alfred put his hands in his pockets and continued to look around. Arthur ignored them all as they looked toward him and Alfred. He ignored the solicitations of the whores, he ignored the men trying to sell him things; his eyes were constantly trained on looking for Aashiyana. _

_ "We should think about looking into buildings," said Alfred, "It's getting pretty cold out here."_

_ Arthur looked up as rain hit him in the face. "Is it? It's nothing short of fine English weather," he said. _

_ "Right," muttered Alfred, pouting, "I prefer rain when it's warmer, thanks."_

_ However, Arthur took Alfred's advice and they went door to door asking if anyone had seen an Indian woman with a violet gown and lavender cloak, the things Arthur had noticed were gone. They were turned away time and again. Though Alfred continued to look and sound hopeful, Arthur remained quiet and continued to feel empty. They came to a building where they saw some people moving around and a little light coming from the windows. Alfred immediately grinned cheerfully at the women assembled; pulling his glasses off so he could clean them of the water they had been streaked with. "Hello, ladies!"_

_ The woman that had answered was a pretty little blonde woman, her hair pulled up, though it was messy. She eyed Alfred with a long look before smiling enticingly at them. "Well, g'mornin', love," she said._

_ "We're looking for a pretty Indian woman wearing a violet dress and a lavender cloak," said Alfred, grinning brightly at her, "Idiot back here was an ass to her and we're responsible for her safety."_

_ "Oh, sorry, love, but we 'aven't seen a bird like that abouts," said Mary, grinning at Alfred, "'course there're plenty o' other ladies 'round." She motioned behind her to other woman assembled, all of whom were dressed rather shabbily and clearly looked to be prostitutes. Arthur's lips set in a grim line on his face as he eyed them with his brilliant, unnaturally green colored gaze that seemed to almost glow in the half-light of the room. _

_ The ladies knew something; they were keeping something from him. He could feel it. They all stared at him and Alfred with wanton looks, though Arthur felt sickened by them. Arthur shoved past Alfred into the room and pulled his hat off. His hair stuck up strangely; though he smoothed it back a second time as he eyed them all. _

_ A goodly portion of the women looked at him less wantonly than the flirtatious gazes they held for Alfred, some even seemed very unsettled by him. He was very handsome, he knew, but perhaps they could feel he wasn't like the rest of them, or maybe his eyes were just too strange for any one of them. Alfred, of course, had a much friendlier look to him, a much more welcoming air to him than Arthur ever had. It was only natural that they would prefer the tall, cheerful, handsome young man with blue eyes like the sky rather than a fairly short, thin young man with thick eyebrows and an almost constant intensity to his gaze that burned when provoked and was cold when indifferent. There was no in between with Arthur._

_ With these sorts of harpies one had only to throw coins at them to get their attention and make them speak. Arthur reached into his coat and started fishing for his coin purse as he spoke to them. "What he says is true," said Arthur, cold and indifferent toward the women, "If anyone here would like to tell me where she is I'll gladly…" He stopped himself and looked to the floor. No, it wasn't right to treat them so badly. It was bad enough they were in their own situations themselves, no need to act like a total ass to them. He could easily find her if he used his talents, but if she wanted to stay hidden away from him, perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps he had wronged her too grievously to be forgiven by her._

_ He sighed and took his hand out of his coat pocket, attempting to keep some control over himself until he could get someplace to be alone, and said in a smaller voice, "I apologize. I intruded. She isn't here." Then, he walked out._

_ Alfred looked after him and then turned toward the little blonde prostitute with a smile as she said, "We'll put up a sign if we see 'er. That right by you girls?" The girls all gave an affirmative._

_ "Thanks," said Alfred, bending down and kissing the woman's hand._

_ "Oh, sir!" The prostitute giggled as Alfred winked at her and walked away into the rain after Arthur. Arthur and Alfred wandered around Whitechapel until Arthur finally lost him and headed back toward his house. How low had he become? Hurting a woman he had feelings for and then acting like she were a runaway slave of some sort, trying to buy off a bunch of prostitutes to tell him where she was. If she wanted to stay away from him, then he would let her stay away from him. He had no say in whatever else she did. After all, she was only a protectorate. It wasn't as though they were married._

_ Arthur walked into his house and bypassed Bernard, shrugging off his wet things once he reached his room and putting on fresh trousers and shirt. He took out a bottle of scotch and sat down in front of his windows and toasted to the fairy tree. "Cheers, my friends," said Arthur, "You're the only ones that'll have me." Then, he downed the entire glass he poured himself before pouring another._

_ "O'right," said the little blonde prostitute, Mary was her name, as she looked out the window. "They're gone, then. Let 'er out." Aashiyana emerged from the cupboard with cobwebs on her and coughing dust from her lungs; she looked less than pleased. "Sorry, love, we don' clean that cupboard out much."_

_ "Not often we get a bird like you here," said another girl, a little brunette._

_ "I don't plan to stay long," said Aashiyana softly as she dusted herself off, "I thank you for your help."_

_ "Wotchu runnin' from, eh?" asked Mary. "Seems those gents were right off in money."_

_ Aashiyana looked to the henna on her hands as she pulled her cloak around her. "I don't know, really."_

_ "Did you steal somethin'?" asked an older woman._

_ "In a sense, I suppose," said Aashiyana softly. "You see, I… sort of belong to one of them… as property."_

_ The girl that let her out spoke, "Oh, y'must be one o'those court—um—coot—erm.. You know, like in France!"_

_ "It's courtesans, Lisa," said Mary._

_ "Wouldn' mind bein' the property o'that tall gent," said a tall red haired woman._

_ "Oh, you mean the American?" said the older woman. "Pretty thing, that."_

_ "That smaller gent was sort of eerie," said the red head, "Gave me chills up m'spine."_

_ "He is sort of eerie," said Aashiyana softly._

_ "Nice eyes though," said the older woman, "Never seen eyes as green as that."_

_ "Like emeralds!" cried another prostitute._

_ "Oh no, they're brighter'n that!" said Lisa. _

_ "He was still eerie," said the red head as she looked out the window, "Like I was looking at something… not like us."_

_ "O'course he ain't like us, he's a gentleman," said the older woman._

_ "I'd still have him," said another girl._

_ "Save it for the payin' Johnnys, girls," said Mary over the noise the women were making. Aashiyana pulled the cloak a bit tighter around her as she looked to the window. Alfred was out there, she could feel it._

_ "The American's back," called one of the prostitutes from the second floor._

_ Aashyana looked to Mary and then to the window. "Is there a back way out?"_

_ "Through the back there," said Mary as she looked out the window on the door herself. _

_ "I'll leave and you let a little time pass before you go out and tell him I've gone home, all right? Thank you," said Aashiyana as she pulled her hood up over her head and hurried out the back door through the hallway._

_ Alfred shivered as he sat on the curb and hugged his knees. His glasses he long ago put into his pocket. He pushed his blonde hair away from his face as he looked around the streets. "Damn Arthur," he grumbled, "He left me behind. This place is a maze. He knows that!" He let out a breath and cupped his hands together, blowing on them to warm them despite the rain that took all the warmth from his body. "Damn it's cold," he gasped._

_ Alfred turned when he heard the door to the brothel open up. He saw Mary walk out with an umbrella in her hands and a shawl around her shoulders that looked fairly worn. He smiled a little at her. "You shouldn't be out here, ma'am," he said, "It's still raining and still very cold."_

_ She tucked a lock of her pale gold hair behind her ear as she moved closer to him and crouched down near him. "I'm doin' someone a favor, love," she said, "See, 'fraid I wasn't too honest t'you."_

_ Alfred frowned and looked to the street, sighing. "She was in there, wasn't she," he said._

_ "She said to say she was goin' home," said Mary, smiling a little at him._

_ Alfred, however, continued to look at the street, smoothing his hair back again. "Damn Arthur," he mumbled, "It's his fault she left and I can't do anything about it. She's not mine to keep safe. I wish I could, though. She's a really nice girl."_

_ "Arthur? That's the short one's name, then?" asked Mary. "She said she was 'is property."_

_ "In a way, I guess, she is," said Alfred, "It's a bit more complicated than that."_

_ "Guess I won't pry," said Mary as she stood up. She smoothed out her skirts and moved back with her umbrella. Alfred sighed and stood up from the curb and looked to her, smiling. He pulled out some of his money and put it into her hand. _

_ "Use this to get some good food for you and your friends," said Alfred, smiling warmly at her. Her cheeks flushed just the slightest, but she smiled all the same at him as she tucked the money into her cleavage. Then, he kissed her hand and moved away._

_ "You're a nice boy," she said, shaking her head a little as she smiled and walked back into the brothel._

_ Alfred chuckled a little and turned away to retrace his steps back to the docks. He would get lost again if he did anything else. As he made his way over to the docks he heard a feminine scream, "Call a constable!" Alfred's heart leaped into his throat. He ran through the crowd toward the scream as he saw people move away from something. He launched himself over a pair of men and skidded to a halt in front of Aashiyana on his knees. She was on the ground and coughing badly, trying to breathe. Blood come up over her front from her mouth and fell to the wet ground to mix with the rain water. _

_ "Come on, Aashiyana," he said softly as he gathered her up into his arms and sprinted away with her. Inside he prayed he could somehow miraculously find Arthur's home through the maze of streets that he had come to find in London. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he wound his way through people and carriages to find Arthur's door wide open and Bernard waiting for them both. His coat was off and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. _

_ "Get her inside," he called to Alfred. Alfred did just that and placed her on one of the sofas in the sitting room. Bernard came over and gently pushed Alfred away from Aashiyana. "Move away. I know what I'm doing." Then, with surgical precision, he put a pail down near Aashiyana and then deftly pulled the dress away from her body and pulled the laces of her corset. Alfred watched as Aashiyana took a breath and then coughed up more blood into the bucket, but less than she had in the recent past. _

_ "You're very quick," said Alfred._

_ "I used to be a military surgeon," said Bernard. He rubbed Aashiyana's back gently in soothing motions. "There, there—there's a good girl—better out than in." Alfred moved closer as Bernard stood up and away from her. "Stay here with her, I'll be back," he said. Then, he walked away. _

_ Alfred leaned down to Aashiyana and wrapped his arms around her gently, holding her against him as he sat down. She curled into him desperately for his warmth as she continued to shiver and shake. He stroked her hair and her back through her wet, transparent chemise. "Arthur," she mumbled._

_ "He's," Alfred began to say, but stopped himself, "I don't know where he is."_

_ "Master Kirkland returned to his quarters some time ago," said Bernard as he walked back in with an armful of towels and Aashiyana's sleeping saari._

_ "Why isn't he coming down?" asked Alfred, frowning deeply._

_ "Likely he's taken to the drink," said Bernard. He carefully dried off Aashiyana's hair for her and moved down her body slowly in an attempt to warm her up a little. _

_ "I… I want to see…" Aashiyana was mumbling, but she was shivering too much to say much else. _

_ "You just warm up and stay dry, okay?" said Alfred, smiling a little at her. _

_ Emily and Olivia walked in then when Bernard called for them and took Aashiyana up the stairs before Olivia left to get some tea for Aashiyana. Alfred watched them leave with his hands in his pockets, frowning still as his eyes fell to the area he knew Arthur's room was. "Stupid idiot," he said._

_ Arthur stared out his windows at the fairy tree. He could see the lights of the little fairies hiding away from the rain, though he could see a few flitting around in it. Arthur didn't turn when he heard a knock at the door, knowing full well who it was. "C'm in, Bernard," he mumbled. The bottle of scotch was empty as Arthur let it go to the carpet. It hit with a dull thud._

_ Bernard eyed his wearily. "Miss Singh has returned," he said. Arthur barely acknowledged him as he continued to stare out the windows at the rain. "Forgive my saying so, sir, but this isn't helping matters." When Bernard didn't get any response from Arthur, he continued, "And Miss Singh was asking for you, though I hardly think you're in quite the right state of mind to speak to her."_

_ Arthur finally stood up and staggered toward Bernard, his green eyes dulled somewhat by the drink. "Th'lady asks… sh… she'll receive."_

_ Bernard sighed and shook his head. "I have to hide that scotch of yours better."_

_ Arthur snorted and made his way down the hall to Aashiyana's room. He fumbled with her door knob and muttered curses at it as though it were sentient. "Fuckin' doorknobs 're made of the mother fuckin' devil." When he managed to open the door he walked in and closed the door before leaning on it. Aashiyana curled under her sheets and blankets as she continued to shiver. _

_ "Y.. Y'wouldn' be… shiverin'… if y'just stayed like y're supposed to," he slurred. _

_ She turned a bit to look at him, smiling just a little at him, though it was half-hearted. "So, I am not allowed to go on a stroll around your city?"_

_ Arthur moved away from the door, waving his hand around in a dismissive manner though his hand sort of flopped around really. "Oh no, y'can do what'ver y'want! Y're jus'… jus' a protect'rate! It's not m'business who y'fuck and where y'wander!" Arthur attempted to sit on the bed, but instead slid off onto his rear. He giggled as he rubbed his backside. "Ow, that hurt."_

_ "That's true," said Aashiyana softly, looking away from him, "I'm only property to you, aren't I?"_

_ Arthur grabbed a hold of the bedpost and pulled himself up. "That's right! No business o'mine what y'do! No reason t'be upset!" He stopped as he stared at the blankets where her feet were, his voice distant. "No reason…" There was no reason to be upset was there? No reason at all! After all, she probably preferred Alfred to him anyway! She probably preferred Greece to him any day!_

_ "But you're upset," said Aashiyana without looking to him._

_ "Of course I'm not!" grunted Arthur as he finally pulled himself up to his feet._

_ "Then, why are you so intoxicated, Arthur?" asked Aashiyana, looking to him again. _

_ Arthur snorted and fell to his rear again, though this time he stayed put as he leaned against the bed. "It makes m'feel better," he slurred, "It muddles m'head so I don' think." So he wouldn't think about the possibility of her leaving him for real. So he wouldn't think about her going back home and enjoying herself away from him. So he wouldn't think about being alone without her. So he wouldn't think…_

_ "What do you think of me?" she asked. _

_ "A fairytale," he said softly as he stared at the door in front of him. "You're pretty… exotic…sparkly… like a fairytale queen." And he was the evil villain come to ruin that beauty. He was the demon that caged her and held her against her will while the prince came to her rescue. He was the evil thing that she outwitted time and again until she was free from him. _

_ Aashiyana looked away from him again to the bed. "I know it is a lot to ask of you," she said softly, "But if I am to be a part of your empire, I want to hope that… I can just be Aashiyana to you."_

_ "You are, you are," said Arthur. Tears rolled over his cheeks as he looked to the door. "You are," he said, his voice breaking. More tears came and he couldn't stop them. Instead, to hide himself away from her, he pulled the top blanket from her bed and pulled it over his head as he curled up under it like a child while he wept. He tried to keep it quiet, but his sniffling was rather loud no less. _

_ Aashiyana moved off the bed and knelt down next to him. "Arthur," she whispered. Arthur felt her hands on him. He shook from his sobbing underneath that blanket, his face buried in his knees. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him and held him against her as he leaned readily into her. She shushed him gently as she rubbed his head through the blanket. Slowly, Arthur calmed down to the sound of her heart, the sound of her breathing, the sound of her voice until his tears had stopped._

_ Aashiyana carefully moved the blanket from him and wiped his tears with her thumbs. His face was reddened, as were his eyes, and his hair was a total mess. When he looked to her finally, she smiled at him sadly and stroked his cheek. In a second, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her close to him, burying his face into her shoulder. After a while, she pulled him up onto the bed and laid his head in her lap as she leaned back into the pillows behind her, stroking his forehead. He made a strange noise and moved her hand away from his eyebrows toward his hair, though it was a bit of a vague movement. _

_ "Sleep, Britain," she said softly, "You need rest after all the trouble I caused you."_

_ "I don' want t'sleep," he mumbled. "I don' want t'wake up 'n see you gone." However, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself awake, he simply couldn't keep his eyes open. Instead, he curled up against her and held onto her legs, afraid she would disappear if he let go. Only when he finally passed out did his hold lessen on her, though he still held onto her._


	9. Chapter Nine

_A/N: Again. Aashiyana is not mine, she belongs to my friend Alexiel as does Mia/California. I just play Alfred and Arthur…. And some others, but that's beside the point, plus some of the states I do as well as Israel, but I'm getting ahead of myself. And currently I'm surrounded by cats. Oh, I might not be updating during Thanksgiving, what with family around an all. I get distracted easily. Just so you know. oAo I still need to wash my clothes!_

_So yeah, I got majorly distracted during Thanksgiving, but I had lots of fun with my family and hope ya'll did too. _

_Chapter Nine_

Arthur woke up early the next morning feeling a little better than he had the previous day. He still looked awful, but he felt a bit better at least. He went down to breakfast and was greeted by Anne, a scarf around her neck to hide the bruising he caused. She looked down at her feet to avoid looking him in the eyes as he slowly halted himself on the stairs as he watched her. "Anne?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but," Anne stopped and wringed her hands a little in front of her, "But I need a job still and I'll understand if you don't want me. I just… Is there someone you could recommend me to?"

Arthur had seen it coming. What he had done to the poor girl would've killed her if it hadn't been for Bernard and the other maids coming in to intervene. He didn't blame her one bit for not wanting to stay. "I have… a few people I know are good employers," he said slowly, feeling just a little out of sorts suddenly. It was his fault that she was bruised and battered. It was his fault that he mistook her for Aashiyana and then his fault for hurting Anne. It was his fault…

"P… please forgive me for what I've done to you," he said softly, almost a whisper.

Anne looked up at him and stared at him in confusion. It was odd that an employer would ask forgiveness from one of his servants and even more so to a maid. However, Arthur continued to gaze at her with apologetic eyes. For a moment, she looked uncertain as to what to answer, wringing her hands again in front of her. He paid them well, he usually took care of them, he usually treated them with some respect; Arthur, while he was strange and sometimes cold, was a decent person.

"I forgive you," she said softly.

Arthur's face lightened a bit, smiling ever so slightly at her. "How would you like to work for someone in the House of Lords?"

Anne's head snapped up in surprise. "I would be appreciative, sir!"

Arthur's smile spread just the slightest as he moved away from her. "Take care of your wounds, Anne," he said as he moved past her to his breakfast table, "Thank you." Anne looked at him as he moved past her, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He was such a strange man.

"That was generous of you," said Bernard as he set the mail down with the morning paper next to Arthur's plate.

Arthur stared at his food with little appetite. He lifted his fork and poked at his eggs until the yolk oozed onto the white plate. _Red. The blood was very red as it ran over the cracks in the street, as it oozed away from him while he continued to pull pieces of that whore from her body like she was a medical school cadaver. Red it was and it was beautiful._

Arthur made a noise and put his hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. Bernard eyed him for a moment before pouring Arthur some strong tea. Arthur took it and drank slowly from his cup as he let the heat of it warm him up from the inside out. "_What is it you see, sir?_" asked Bernard in Hindi.

"_I see_," Arthur stared at the yolk again, watching it turn red again in front of his eyes, "_the whore lying on the sidewalk. I see myself… gutting her and placing her pieces around her. I'm dissecting her… and I'm enjoying it._"

_**My, I've never seen eyes as green as yours, sir.**_

"_He has green eyes_," said Arthur slowly, "_Green eyes that are remarkable enough to mention and compliment. He has my eyes._" Arthur rubbed his face again and groaned. "I'm going mad," he said in English.

Bernard refrained from comment. He alone in the house knew what sort of person Arthur was. The maids all switched out every few years so as to not take notice of Arthur's inability to age the way he should. Arthur looked up at him and those brilliant, far too unnaturally colored green eyes of his shone even more as though to make a point of it. "What if it's me, Bernard?" he asked.

"I highly doubt that," said Bernard, "Since I would know when you left your room."

"You were asleep that night I found myself outside," said Arthur, looking away from him to once again poke at his eggs. "You didn't come out until I was staggering inside."

"I heard you fall from your balcony, sir, but I know you would likely be all right," said Bernard. Then, he added in Hindi, "_You don't stay dead._"

Arthur ate a little of his eggs and toast slowly, his stomach making him feel sick as it gnawed at him on the inside to get at the sustenance. Bernard watched him silently for a few moments before Arthur was surprised by Bernard's soft tone. "Have you seen the other side, sir?" Arthur looked up at him, but Bernard was looking away. "Heaven," said Bernard, "Have you seen it?"

Arthur looked back to his plate. "No," he said softly, "I don't think it is something we see when we die." Bernard nodded and continued to look away from him until Arthur spoke again. "I don't think it's something anyone is meant to remember."

Bernard gazed at him a long moment. "_We meaning the nations, sir?_" he asked in a whisper.

"Yes."

Bernard nodded and moved away. "If you'll excuse me, I need to continue to oversee this household and look for spying maids." At that there were a couple of soft gasps and the sound of a pair of maids skittering away to do their duties. Arthur nodded and watched Bernard walk away.

Arthur continued to eat slowly, feeling a bit better with some food in his stomach, before he stood up and put on his coat and hat and took his cane out to go to Scotland Yard. His driver was different again. He looked up at him and frowned faintly. "And you are?"

"My name's Mr. Ross, sir," said the coachman, "Bill's sick, sir. Mr. Farrow wasn't available."

Arthur found it odd that he couldn't see past the man's hat and hair in his eyes. He frowned a bit and got into the carriage. Shaking his head, he sat back into the seat and pulled the door of the carriage closed and then closed his eyes as he leaned back in his seat.

_

* * *

Arthur woke up with a throbbing headache so sharp it could've cut diamonds. He groaned pitifully and whined as he curled up into a fetal position under the covers, holding his head with his arms. He heard Aashiyana move closer to him and felt the blanket get pulled away from him. He grappled for it with desperate whine to cut the light out from his eyes. "Bad hangover?" she asked softly._

_ "Shhhh!" Arthur whined again and curled tighter in on himself. "Fucking hell, my head's killing me!" _

_ Bernard came in and placed a tray of tea on the little breakfasting table next to the windows. He sighed when he saw Arthur, prompting Arthur to give him a rude gesture before promptly curling back up to hold his aching head. Bernard walked out then as Aashiyana moved to the little table and poured Arthur some tea. She came back and very carefully moved it under his nose to get his attention. He grumbled and curled tighter in on himself. Aashiyana sighed and gave him a mildly irritated look. _

_ "Do stop fussing and sit up. Drink this," she said as she nudged him to sit up slowly. _

_ "Don't fucking tell me to stop fussing!" he snapped. Despite his foul mood, he did as she told him to and slowly drank the hot tea, though he did pull the blanket back over his head. The tea helped a little as he felt the warmth of it spread through his body. He watched silently as Aashiyana rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck. She must have sat up the entire time to satisfy him. Arthur felt guilty for putting her through that, but said nothing._

_ She walked over to the wardrobe where she pulled the frilly nightgown off that the maids must have put her into instead of her sleeping saari, which she preferred. He let the blanket fall away from his head as he felt his cheeks heat up. Even if she were not facing him, the sight of her naked back and rear, the sight of her lovely legs, was very stirring. She pulled her simple sleeping wrap around her and tucked it properly before she came back to the bed and lay down near him. _

_ She lay on her side facing him and held her head up on her arm. She looked like a queen regardless of anything she wore or did. Even then he felt more like some bratty prince than her Maharaja. She smiled a little at him as he continued to sip at the tea; making his cheeks heat even more. "Does the queen have any need to speak with me now?" she asked._

_ "No," said Arthur softly, "I don't think so."_

_ "I see."_

_ Arthur picked a bit at the edge of the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, not looking at her. "We should get you back home. I wanted to wait until you were well again to travel, though."_

_ "I suppose that is the sensible thing to do," said Aashiyana._

_ "Of course it is," said Arthur, looking to her again. At her smile, he turned away from her. She slowly wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his back, prompting Arthur to stiffen a bit in her embrace. "Ah…" He flushed fully when she moved herself up from the bed and nuzzled into the back of his neck lovingly._

_ "If you were to ask me to be affectionate only to you," said Aashiyana softly, "I hope you would return me the favor."_

_ Arthur's cheeks felt like they were burning. He down the rest of the tea in one gulp and coughed a moment before he set the cup down on the bedside table and tried to get control of his breathing. "I would," he said._

_ She moved away from him again and lay down on her side once more, supporting her head on her arm as she looked up at him with those warm black and green eyes of hers. "You must think I am less of a lady with the way I act around other men."_

_ "No," said Arthur softly, "Just frustrating." He rubbed his face as he continued to speak, "And aggravating, and maddening…"_

_ She watched him for a long moment; he could feel her gaze on him though he did not look at her. "Relationships are different for us," she said softly, "We both know that. We have always known that. And yet, you feel so strongly…"_

_ Arthur pulled his knees up and hugged them tightly, setting his chin on his knees. "I know that."_

_ "Why won't you say it?" Arthur felt his heart beat quicker in his chest as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or do you not want to admit it to yourself?"_

_ "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said gruffly._

_ "So I am right," said Aashiyana, sitting up on her elbow some, "Would asking me to promise myself to you really be that disagreeable?"_

_ Arthur looking to the wall so he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes. Would it be terrible to ask her? He was her superior, her sovereign, and she was around before he had learned to walk. She had been very young when his own mother, Britannia, had been keeping up with his older brothers Ireland and Scotland. She had been around a long time, far longer than Arthur had ever been, and she had been her own independent nation for much of it, although, there was that time she and Greece shared a kingdom when they were both small. _

_ So would it be right? No. She was independent even if she was his protectorate. She was a queen, a graceful ruler of her people, even if she was just the personification of them and she was in his care instead of on her own. It was like caging a pretty bird, and he was the villain that caged her._

_ "Relationships aren't the same," he said softly, "You're only bound to me as a protectorate. Do what you want." Then, he got out of the bed. He felt her hand close around his wrist with gentle strength that made him turn and look at her. Her expression was of stern determination._

_ "I want you to have no regrets," she said, "I want you to stop drinking yourself into a stupor over me. I want you to man up and stop second-guessing yourself!"_

_ Arthur stared at her a long moment, silent, as her lips set in a hard line. "It's pitiful the way you are acting!" Her grip on his wrist tightened up. He could feel his pulse quickening under her strong fingers. "And you know it!" In that moment, she let go of his wrist and rolled onto her side, putting her back to him. "But then, what can I say to you that will make you listen? I'm not your equal. Our bond is not that of a political marriage. We aren't a union of empires."_

_ Arthur swallowed and stared at her back, his pace quickening even more. Slowly, almost afraid that she would run off or disappear the moment he made any quick movements, he got back onto the bed and scooted closer to her until his chest was against her back. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer as he put his forehead against her shoulder. She put a hand on one of his arms gently, though she trembled a little when he nuzzled into her hair._

_ "_You are my Rani,_" said Arthur softly in Hindi in her ear, "_If I am your Raja, then you are my Rani._"_

_ She let out a small sob and turned around in his arms to face him, burying her face against his neck and collarbone. "I'm cold," she said softly, trembling and shivering, though it was from her tears. He gently kissed her forehead and the top of her head as he pulled the blanket over them both. Slowly, she calmed down and settled against him like she belonged there with him. _

* * *

Arthur woke up slowly. He frowned faintly. The light coming in from the windows had changed direction slightly. The sun was higher in the sky than it should have been. Had he been asleep too long? He took a deep breath and moved himself away from his seat. He looked through the window to see Scotland Yard right next to the carriage, but he couldn't tell where his driver had gone off to. He carefully opened the door of his carriage and got out.

The perch on the carriage was empty. The horses were standing silently and occasionally hitting the ground with one of their hooves. He put his hat on and frowned deeply. Why would his coachman abandon the carriage? Even if he were a temporary coachman, he still must have been highly recommended by either Mr. Farrow or Mr. Pitch.

"Oh, so you're awake, sir?"

Arthur jumped and fell against the carriage. He managed to keep himself upright by grabbing the side of it as his back hit the door handle on the carriage. He winced a bit, but carefully pulled himself upright. Mr. Ross was standing there with that floppy hat of his, his hair in his eyes a bit, though he smiled pleasantly enough to Arthur. "Sorry, sir," he said, "I though' I should let y'sleep awhile since you seemed t'be havin' a good dream. Ev'ry chap needs t'have some good dreams."

Arthur found the man strange, very strange and very unusual. He sounded as though he were of the lower class, a bit of a Cockney accent to his speech, but it was stilted slightly as though it were a part of a show. He was unsettling. "No, you should have woken me up. I needed to come in the station on account that I wasn't feeling well yesterday to stay longer."

"Really? Beggin' your pardon, sir, but what's a gent like you doin' in a police station?" asked Mr. Ross. "Y'don't look like no crook t'me."

"I'm aiding the detectives in a case of great importance," said Arthur, that unsettling feeling in him growing.

"Aiding the detectives? Oh! You must be after that killer what's been killin' the poor ladies on Whitechapel," said Mr. Ross.

Arthur straightened up and dusted his coat off a little, frowning. "It's nothing I can discuss with you," said Arthur, "But it is important I come in. Stay here until I come out." Then, Arthur made a hasty get away from Mr. Ross. He walked into the building and made his way up asking if Chief Inspector Moore or Inspector Abberline were about in the station. They directed him back to that one room where he had come in so often to be greeted by Moore's sarcasm and Abberline's silence. He found Abberline looking at a postcard closely and another detective standing by him.

"Ah, Sir Arthur," said Abberline, "This is Detective Sergeant Godley. Godley, this is the royally appointed psychic." Arthur's cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned on his cane.

"I'm not the royally appointed psychic," said Arthur, "I just happen to have some… interesting talents."

"Not the least of which is turning Chief Inspector Moore into a mild believer," said Abberline, smirking just a bit, "At least in your case."

"Right."

Abberline held up the postcard to show Arthur. "This was sent to the Central News Agency, we're currently trying to figure out if it's real or not."

Arthur blinked and moved closer. He took the postcard and looked at the writing. It was the same handwriting as before; the same curls and such to the lettering, but the lining and tilt were wilder.

_I was not codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip, you'll hear about Saucy Jacky's work tomorrow double event this time number one squealed a bit couldn't finish straight off. ha not the time to get ears for police. thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again._

_Jack the Ripper_

"It's his," said Arthur, "Though it's lost much of the original perfection that I said was in the first letter. The grammar and spelling is worse, as well."

"In other words, he's getting worse in his head, letting more of himself out, perhaps?" said Abberline.

"I think you're right," said Arthur. He couldn't feel much from the postcard, though he did try to access the "talents" they spoke of before.

"And you feel…?" asked Abberline, eyeing him. No, Abberline did not trust his psychic power one bit. Arthur could tell that just from looking at him. Moore was a bit different in that he now seemed to believe Arthur, but Abberline was cynical, though he humored Arthur to see what he could do. When Arthur didn't answer Abberline nodded and took the card from him, placing it on the desk. "Anything more from our dear friend, then?"

"I'm not lying," said Arthur softly.

"I didn't think you were," said Abberline, "Unless you wish to confess to something."

Damn it, Abberline thought him to be the killer or at least a suspect. Then, again, maybe he picked up on Arthur's own feelings of him being the monster. What better way to taunt the police than to be in their own building and telling them what to look for. Green eyes, intelligent, obsessive/compulsive; there was no way that Abberline could not think him to be the killer!

"I'm not him," said Arthur slowly, looking right into Abberline's eyes as he tightened his grip on his cane. Abberline frowned a little as he looked into Arthur's eyes; his mouth setting further. Arthur prayed Abberline would feel at least a little of the feeling that some humans had when they came in contact with their own national personification, whether they knew what they were or not. It was strange feeling that Arthur had heard described was a bit like being near your family. For some, this bond was stronger.

Abberline, for one moment, looked as though something different registered for him. "I see," he said. Arthur couldn't tell much more from him. He was having trouble trying to focus any of that aspect of his psychic talent to read even his emotions. Abberline put his hat on and looked to Godley after that. "Godley, you're coming with me. Thank you for coming, Sir Arthur."

"It's not a problem," said Arthur. He walked out of the room when Abberline and Godley did. He followed them out of the building, but separated from them when he got into his carriage. Mr. Ross's voice filtered in through the pipe next to Arthur's ear.

"Where to, sir?"

"The palace," said Arthur, "And this time, if I fall asleep again, wake me up. Her Majesty is far less forgiving."

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Ross. The carriage rolled forward as Arthur watched the buildings and people pass by him. "Beggin' your pardon, sir," said Ross into the pipe, "but why would a young chap like you be in the service of 'er Majesty? Are you some sort of Lord?"

"Not as such," said Arthur, "I'm a close aid to the queen."

"Really," said Mr. Ross. His tone had changed slightly, as though he were marking off possibilities in his head. "Such a young gent in service to 'er Majesty? Cor, wish I could 'ave tha' job m'self!" said Mr. Ross, his tone going back to normal and, if possible, his accent got worse and more showy. "I'd get so much more done if I 'ad that much money."

"A wife and house, a title and the like?" asked Arthur, frowning.

"I don't need a wife," said Mr. Ross, his tone suddenly angry. It disappeared after a few moments, though, when he spoke again, "Sorry, trouble with the missus, sir."

"Understandable," said Arthur.

Arthur leaned back in his seat and looked to the empty seat in front of him. For a moment, he could see Aashiyana sitting there dressed in one of her luxurious looking saaris and veil, khol lining her black and green eyes and making the green look brighter in comparison. He could see her looking out the window in silence as she watched the people and buildings go by that contrasted so greatly from her.

_

* * *

Arthur kissed Aashiyana slowly, his lips moving against hers in gentle movements that pulled her a bit closer to him. He held her still in his arms; she was still curled slightly against him and enjoying the small, loving kisses they shared while in her bed. There was a knock at the door that stopped their small moment, though. Arthur put a finger to his lips to silence her and turned slightly to look at the door. "Yes? What is it?"_

_ "Master Kirkland, you have a visitor," said Bernard, "A Mr. Berwyn Griffith."_

_ His brother Wales had come then. "All right," said Arthur, "Tell him to wait, I'll receive him in a few minutes." _

_ "Very good, sir," said Bernard. Then, Bernard closed the door and walked back down the stairs. _

_ Arthur turned to Aashiyana with a small smile. "My brother Wales is here," he said, "You can meet him if you want. You can come down in one of your saaris." Aashiyana's cheeks were still flushed from their kissing and touching, but she nodded and smiled at him all the same. Arthur stood away from the bed and straightened his shirt, buttoning it up as he walked out the door. He walked down and made his way to the sitting room where he saw his brother Wales sitting and talking with Alfred._

_ Berwyn Griffith was a fair sized young man, older than Arthur in appearance, though not as old as their eldest brother Scotland or even their older brother Ireland. He had a pleasant face, made more handsome whenever he smiled at a person, which was almost all the time. He had light green eyes and somewhat messy ginger colored hair. Berwyn stood up shortly after Arthur arrived and went right over to him, pulling him into a big hug before breaking away and patting him on the head. "Still short, little brother," Berwyn chuckled._

_ "My height doesn't enter into this," grumbled Arthur as he attempted to straighten his wayward hair. Berwyn just chuckled and sat down again. Arthur took a seat not far from him and eyed him suspiciously. Berwyn was a nice man, he'd always been nicer to Arthur than their older brothers Ireland and Scotland; however, Berwyn had a tendency toward occasionally being a prankster. These pranks usually were pulled on Arthur after Berwyn had anonymously provoked Ireland's ire and Ireland was quick to go after Arthur with a vengeance. _

_ "Why did you come?" asked Arthur, still eyeing his older brother._

_ Berwyn blinked at him in confusion, not quite understanding why Arthur was looking at him suspiciously, or, at least, it seemed that way with him. Berwyn also had a tendency to look very unassuming. He smiled after a moment and leaned back in his seat. "I came to visit you, of course, though you don't have to be so English about it."_

_ "I __**am**__ English—I mean I am __**England**__—oh forget it!" Arthur shook his head and leaned back in his own seat. Alfred laughed from where he sat, prompting Arthur to shoot a glare at him and snap, "Oh shut up, you idiot!" Arthur then turned back to Berwyn who was sporting a broad smile on his face. "You don't just often come all the way over here for nothing, Berwyn."_

_ "Don't I? I thought I visited you more often that," said Berwyn. He shrugged and chuckled again. "I came with the coal trains. Just brought in a fresh supply from the mines back home."_

_ "I heard there were a few accidents in the mines," said Arthur, "Mine collapses and the like."_

_ "Yes, there were several mine collapses. A lot of people died." Berwyn stayed silent for a moment while Arthur eyed him. Berwyn briefly lost some of his usual pleasant demeanor and looked to his lap. When he spoke again, it was a much nicer tone. "So! Want to have a drink with me?"_

_ Arthur's cheeks flushed. He promised he wouldn't go drinking over Aashiyana and when he started drinking with Berwyn he had trouble stopping. "No, I think I'll pass," said Arthur._

_ "Oh? You never turn down a drink with me," said Berwyn. His pale green eyes sparkled faintly as a knowing look came over his gaze. "Is it because of your guest?"_

_ Arthur's cheeks flushed more and opened his mouth to snap at Berwyn, but they both turned when they heard a soft cough behind them. Aashiyana had come down dressed in all her finery. She wore a deep red saari with plenty of gold embellishments to make her look like a queen even without her jewelry. Alfred, Arthur and Berwyn all stood when she entered, Alfred grinning broadly as he put his hands in his pockets._

_ "Ah! So you must be the guest!" said Berwyn as he walked toward her. Aashiyana offered her hand to him and he took it gently in his hand and squeezed a little. "You're a fair sight."_

_ "Aashiyana, this is my brother Berwyn," said Arthur, sighing a bit, "Berwyn, this is India. India, this is Wales."_

_ "A pleasure to meet you, Wales," said Aashiyana. Her commanding, queenly presence was once again back in place. It made Arthur smile just a bit._

_ "And a pleasure to meet a beautiful lady as yourself, India," said Berwyn. He released her hand and chuckled a bit. "I came along with the coal shipment to say hello to my little brother." Berwyn then put his hand on Arthur's head, "No matter how small he is."_

_ Arthur made a face and shoved his brother's hand off of his head. "Eire didn't come with you, did he?"_

_ "Eibhear? Nah, he didn't come along. How could he? He's dealing with his own troubles back home!" said Berwyn._

_ "Ah, that's right, he must still be home. The Empress sent a goodly sum of money to ease the famine there, didn't she?" said Aashiyana. When she sat down, the other three sat down as well. "Berwyn, was it?"_

_ "Yeah," said Berwyn, "And you're Aashiyana, yes?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "He's… the less volatile of my brothers," said Arthur._

_ "Oh, I wouldn't say that," said Berwyn, smirking just a bit, "Ireland and Scotland don't mind me. They like me. You, however, have their temperament. Of course, mum had a similar temperament."_

_ Another knock at the door and Arthur got up from his seat. He waved at Bernard as he passed, "I'll take this, Bernard." Bernard nodded and stood back away from him. "Yes?" asked Arthur when he opened the door. He was greeted with Eibhear's head slamming into his and knocking him backward. Dazed, Arthur fell onto floor, his forehead bleeding. Eibhear, Ireland, a handsome man slightly older in appearance than Berwyn with longish red hair to his chin and bright, grass green eyes, stepped into the doorway and gave a rude gesture to Arthur; though his own forehead was bleeding just as badly._

_ "THAT'S FOR YOUR F'CKIN' CHARITY!" he shouted and then stormed out. _

_ Berwyn laughed and pulled on his coat. "Sorry, but since Arthur's not going to go drinking with me, I'll be going then." As he stepped out the door over Arthur's sprawled body, he leaned over Arthur and said, "You'll be all right then, aye? Go on then and get up." Then, he jogged out the door after Eibhear. "EIBHEAR! YOU WANT TO GET A DRINK?!" called Berwyn as he chased his older brother._

_ Eibhear turned in his place and a broad grin spread across his thin face. "GET YER FUCKIN' ASS OVER HERE!" Berwyn laughed as he came up beside Eibhear and Eibhear said, "Yer payin'."_

_ Aashiyana, Alfred and Bernard, meanwhile, stared at Arthur as he shoved himself slowly up from the floor and grumbled, "I'm… I'm goin'… t…t'fuckin' kill him..."_

_ "I'll just go fetch the cleaning things, then," said Bernard and then walked of._

_ "That was sort of funny," said Alfred, grinning impishly._

_ "F'ck you, A-Am'r'ca," mumbled Arthur._

_ Aashiyana sighed and walked over to Arthur. She kneeled down and lifted his head into her lap where she leaned down and kissed the uninjured part of his forehead, near his eyebrow. He squirmed slightly and made a strange whine, pushing her back a little. She smiled faintly and shook her head. "Just relax a moment. We'll clean you up and take care of you."_

_ Bernard returned and Aashiyana helped Bernard clean and bandage Arthur's forehead as he continued to mumble about killing his brother Eibhear. When done, Bernard picked up the materials and stood up. "I think you should retire for the day, sir, to rest your head."_

_ "Fine," Arthur mumbled._

_ "Very good, sir," said Bernard before walking away._

_ Aashiyana smiled gently at Arthur and stroked his hair away from his head. "Can you stand?"_

_ Arthur winced slightly as he looked to her and nodded a little. He carefully pushed himself up with her help and stood on his feet, though he wavered a bit. Slowly, she helped him walk up the stairs to his room._


	10. Chapter Ten

_A/N: Okay! So I've been getting into tormenting the shit out of my Eclipse book with my trusty red pens like an English teacher that doesn't give a fuck about making kids feel secure or not. (Apparently, purple is preferred now or demanded because red is too "alarming". Fucking P.C. bullshit!) It's dropping in temperature outside and by God I love it! Supposedly we're going to get snow, but I haven't seen a lick of it. Nevermind, just looked at the radar and snow has bypassed us entirely. *shakes fist at the sky*_

_Aashiyana/India is not mine; she belongs to my friend Alexiel who also created Maria/Arizona, Rosa/New Mexico and Mia/California and a version of Australia that I adore possibly more than the canon Australia. His name's Kody and his koala is evil. _

_Chapter Ten_

Arthur opened his eyes and looked to the window slowly. It was getting dark outside. How long had he been asleep? He told the driver to wake him up when they reached the palace should he actually fall asleep. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cocaine from his inside jacket pocket and took some of it. He would be glad when this case was over with, because it would be one less thing he had to do.

"Mr. Ross?" he called through the pipe as he let the drug take effect. There was no answer. Arthur frowned and called into the pipe again. Again, he received no answer. He sat up and looked out the window again and saw he was not at the palace or anywhere near it. He was in the East End. It was a miracle the horses were still tethered. He could tell they were, he could hear them and feel them fidget by the way the carriage moved.

Slowly, Arthur got out of the carriage and looked around. The horses were fine, they looked restless though. The carriage was in fine shape, which meant that the carriage being stopped was because of something else. Sure enough, Mr. Ross wasn't up on the perch at all. Arthur had that uneasy feeling in his stomach again and his heart was picking up. He hopped up on the perch and took up the reins. He snapped them and was rewarded with the horses moving forward into the darkened streets.

Mr. Ross had been acting strangely to be certain. He seemed to perpetually keep his face hidden from Arthur, he kept asking Arthur various questions, and he lashed out in tone of his voice when Arthur mentioned something in particular, though Arthur couldn't remember what exactly it was. He watched as the East End disappeared around him and made his way back toward home, though he had some difficulty getting used to driving a carriage. He had not had to drive even a cart for a long time much less a carriage.

His house seemed normal. The lights were on in some places, particularly where the maids and Bernard would be located. He drove the carriage into the drive and stopped them slowly. He hopped off the perch and went inside to look around. "Bernard?"

"Yes, Master Kirkland?" Bernard came out of the sitting room and took Arthur's coat and hat. "You look a little wet."

"Drove the carriage home," said Arthur. "That new driver disappeared before we even got to the palace. In fact, he took me to the East End instead."

"Mr. Farrow?" asked Bernard.

Arthur stopped and looked to Bernard. "Pardon?"

"Are you referring to Mr. Farrow, sir?" asked Bernard as he put Arthur's coat and hat up.

"No, he's sick. The driver I had was Mr. Ross," said Arthur.

"I do not know of any Mr. Ross," said Bernard, looking to Arthur over his shoulder, "I would have been informed and informed you if Mr. Farrow had sent word that he was sick as well."

Arthur bolted out the door and ran first to the stable. Bernard was close behind him, though he was getting slow in his late years. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the stables. He saw a couple of young men come around to pull the horses and carriage toward the stables, he saw another young man cleaning out the stables and putting in fresh hay, but he saw no Mr. Ross. He looked around in the stables as the young man putting in fresh hay watched him. "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked Arthur.

"Have you seen a relatively tall man with a sort of floppy hat and goes by the name Mr. Ross?" The boy looked at him with a surprised expression, though made no indication he knew what Arthur was talking about. Arthur, his hands shaking a little, punched the wood support beam nearest to him before moving back and forth around the stables to see if he could possibly find a clue. Bernard stood back and watched him, coming in eventually behind Arthur to check the stalls.

"Sir, I just cleaned the stalls, there's nothing in them but fresh hay and blankets, brushes, that sort of thing," said the stable hand.

"I believe the young man is right," said Bernard, "He would likely have found something if something were to be found."

Arthur wasn't satisfied. There had to be something there. There had to be. Either it was in the stable or it was at Mr. Farrow's house and he had no idea where Mr. Farrow lived. "Bernard!"

"Yes, sir?"

"We're going to Mr. Farrow's house," said Arthur. "You are going to show me his home."

"Yes, sir," said Bernard.

"Would you like the carriage and horses taken 'round to the front, then, sir?" asked the stable hand.

"No, we're walking," said Arthur. He couldn't stand still. He needed to keep moving. He needed to hide the shaking in his hands. His heart beat quickly against his ribs as he felt the surge of energy take hold from the cocaine.

"Mr. Farrow doesn't live too far from here," said Bernard, "It would be faster, however, if we used the carriage, sir."

"I don't give a fuck about the carriage, Bernard!" snapped Arthur.

"Master Kirkland, calm down." Bernard put his hands on Arthur's shoulders and forced him to face him. "I know you are stressed by this, but I am certain there is a logical explanation for it."

One that chilled Arthur to the bone and rattled him worse than the cocaine was currently doing. Oh, but the high of it was handy. Arthur shoved Bernard's hands off of him and jogged along the street. "Bernard! Show me where Mr. Farrow lives!" snapped Arthur. Bernard sighed and followed after him.

Bernard had been right that the carriage would have been handy, but Arthur couldn't sit still. He needed the activity of walking, jogging, running, anything to keep the focus of his shaking and fidgeting to a minimum. He didn't want Bernard to know about him getting the cocaine and the laudanum or even the absinthe. Bernard didn't know that Arthur desperately needed them all to keep going, to distract from things when he needed the distraction from the real world to that of his memories.

They reached Mr. and Mrs. Farrow's little house in a small amount of time. Arthur went up to the door and knocked on it with the door knocker. The door opened to reveal a nice looking woman, her brown curls pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. She looked at Bernard and Arthur in confusion. "Yes?"

"Is Mr. Farrow home?" asked Arthur.

"No," said Mrs. Farrow, "In fact he went to work and I haven't seen him since. Is... Is he all right?" Genuine worry lined her face as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve. "Please say he is!"

"Madam," said Bernard as he moved forward toward her. "We were hoping he was here. We have no idea where he has gone to, but I am certain we will find him eventually." Mrs. Farrow nodded and trembled a little in fear. Arthur moved away from the door and started back for home. Bernard looked back over his shoulder at Arthur and then looked to Mrs. Farrow. "We will send word if something has come up." Then, he turned and jogged after Arthur.

Arthur didn't have any patience at all now. Instead of walking, Arthur ran all the way back home at a dead run, his lithe, lightly built body perfect for the speed. He used to outrun his brothers all the time to the trees to hide when he irritated them. Now, Bernard, whose body was getting on in years, was having trouble keeping up with Arthur as he disappeared around the bend. Arthur kept running until he got to his house and then sprinted up the stairs two at a time, falling on his face twice in the effort. He checked the guest rooms first. Nothing. He saw the Native American drum Alfred left in one room. He went to the next one and found nothing in that except a gold bangle. Arthur lifted it up and put it to his cheek as he felt his body tremble again. He put the bangle in his pocket and dashed out of the room.

He went to his bedroom next and stopped in his tracks. Everywhere he looked his things had been tossed around as though someone had been looking for something in particular. Arthur moved forward into his room slowly, looking around carefully for movement. He lit the lamps carefully and found his absinthe and laudanum stowed away properly. His trunks had been moved around and some had been left open. His clothes in his wardrobe were still there. His windows were left open and there was something on his balcony. He walked over to it and stepped out to see what it was. Holding the lamp closer to his eyes, he kneeled down to see mud on the painted wood. He moved around and found the imprint of a robe in the railing from supporting this person's weight. He walked in and followed the fading trail of mud into his room on his carpet until it disappeared entirely at his bed.

Arthur's heart pounded hard in his chest as he looked to the closed curtains on the bed. After a long moment where he felt as though any second something would jump out at him from the curtains, he snapped them back quickly and held the lamp up. There was nothing on the bed. His sheets were fine. They were normal, even, for the maids to have made the bed, though why would the curtains be drawn? He frowned and took off his jacket, putting it on a chair. He took his tie out and collar and put them on top of his jacket before he made his way out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom.

In the tub was the most horrific of the sights. There, in the tub, was the reclining, naked body of little Anne. Her blonde hair was stained, her pale eyes wide and unfocused, staring up at the ceiling. Her body had been ripped open. Her intestines had been tied around her neck. Her organs had been set aside on the floor. Had no one heard this? Why had no one come up to look?

Arthur stumbled backward into the wall behind him, shaking terribly. He felt ill. He felt a hand on his shoulder and shouted loudly as he struck out at whatever came near him. He was then restrained by his butler Bernard, who was now sporting a small bruise on his cheek thanks to Arthur's fist partially catching him. "Calm down, Master Kirkland, please," said Bernard as he held Arthur's wrists securely. He looked to the bathroom and realization dawned on him as well as no small measure of horror. "Great God," he muttered.

"It's him. He did it. Jack. He was here," said Arthur. "We have to find Mr. Farrow. There might still be hope for him being alive!" Arthur attempted to shove himself up to his feet, but fell in Bernard's arms. Tears came to his eyes at his own weakness and for the girl he had assaulted and had intended on helping get a new job, perhaps a better one than being a maid for him. "How? How did he do this and no one see him? Is he a ghost? Why little Anne? Why her? What had she done to him?"

"She had come in to get the recommendation not that long ago. I had thought she had left. I was certain I had seen her go," said Bernard.

"We can't let the police know of this. They have trouble believing me enough as it is. A body in my home, they'll think it was me that did the job," said Arthur, his breathing picking up.

"Sir, I think it would be wise to inform them of this."

"_Fuck that thought!_" Arthur hissed at Bernard through his teeth in Hindi; worried the maids would hear them arguing. "_They barely believe me when I say I'm a fair psychic! They think I'm wholly useless on the case, not that I blame them because even I think I am useless in this! I've already had to dispel Chief Inspector Moore's suspicion once! A girl I had assaulted after having some delusion suddenly turns up dead in my house in the same way that the Ripper kills his whores… do you honestly think they'll not suspect me at all!? Especially after I've been missing for Lord only knows how long!_"

"You take care of the body, then, Master Kirkland, and I will keep the servants busy elsewhere," said Bernard.

"Thank you," said Arthur. With the help of Bernard, Arthur stood up and walked into the bathroom slowly. He turned when he heard the door close behind him. He could hear Bernard's footsteps walking away from the door. Arthur then slowly turned to the tub with Anne's body decaying in its own blood. Arthur slowly walked to her and touched her lifeless cheek gently, smearing a little of her blood without meaning to. Her skin still had some warmth to it. She had not been dead that long. That meant that whenever Jack had killed her it had not been as long ago as Arthur had thought. Perhaps this had been the last thing Jack had done before leaving Arthur's house with whatever else he had found out by searching through Arthur's trunks.

He rolled his sleeve as far up his arm as he could and slowly reached into the cooling blood. He felt for the plug and found it, but holding onto it through the thick blood was like holding onto wet soap. Every time he got a hold of the chain for the plug, his hand would slip and he would run his hand into some part of Anne's body, making him jump terribly. Blood dripped on the floor whenever he pulled his arm out from the blood after brushing against Anne's thigh or calf. When he finally got a good grip on the chain, the plug gave way and the blood drained down into the drain underneath it slowly.

Arthur grabbed a towel and wiped his arm down with it using some of the water from the wash basin. Then, he looked out in the hallway for any of the maids and went to the guest room closest to the bathroom and grabbed the sheet from the bed. He hurriedly made his way to the bathroom and locked the door quickly before anyone would notice him. As quietly and quickly as he could, he pulled Anne's body from the tub and laid it on the sheet. He then put her organs on her and wrapped the sheet around her until there was nothing to be seen of her. Even wrapped like a mummy, he could see that he had only a short time before her blood would seep through the sheet and get on him. He took his shirt off entirely and picked up her body in his arms. He could withstand the cold air for a short time. He just needed to commandeer his own carriage.

Bernard, as though reading his mind, waved him through down the stairs. "Sir, you'll need your coat. It's quite cold outside."

"If I wear anything it'll show on the fabric," said Arthur, "Just get the stable hands away from the stables so I can get the carriage hitched up to the horses."

"You'll need help."

"I don't need help. I can do this much on my own," said Arthur. He then left carefully through the front door with the wrapped body in his arms, checking for people who might see him as he skirted around the house to the stables in the shadowy places. The night was very dark, thankfully, and the moon provided only a faint glow through the clouds. He heard Bernard call the stable hands inside, away from the stables. Arthur inwardly thanked Bernard and skittered quickly to the stable. He found that the stable hands had mercifully only then started on putting the horses into their stalls and putting the carriage away. He put Anne's body into the carriage and then pulled a clean horse blanket around his body; then he grabbed a shovel and put that in with Anne and got up onto the perch where he started the horses forward slowly so as to not be heard.

He drove the carriage until they were outside of the city. The blanket provided him a great deal of warmth, thankfully, but it would not be enough if he went too far outside of the city. Even still, he needed to get to the woods. If he died from the cold, he would just come back to life again. His servants would be wondering what had happened to him, however, and what had happened to the carriage. He found a good spot, though it wasn't ideal. It was better than trying to force a grave for her in one of the city graveyards. Instead, he had found an old graveyard outside of the city.

He checked around him for a moment and then got off of the perch. He put the horse blanket on the perch and then took Anne's body and the shovel out of the carriage. He carried her awkwardly to a good place in the graveyard and set her down on the cold ground before he set to his work. Digging was something he had not done in a long time and his muscles were not accustomed to it. Every inch of his body burned and itched from the horse blanket and the strain from digging the grave until it was deep enough. He had to use almost all his remaining strength to scramble out of the grave and then place Anne's body into it. When done, he poured earth on her and then put rocks down on top of the earth packed onto her body. He repeated this until the ground was level and then he put the grass on top of it that he had dug up and packed that down.

He sat down on the ground a moment to catch his breath, the cold ground and air stealing any sort of warmth from his body. He softly said a prayer over the grave then and stood up away from it. He dusted himself off and sighed at how dirty he had made himself, but he had finished the job without much notice. Now, the only task left to him was to get back home without being noticed.

Arthur coughed into his hand as he made his way back to the carriage. He pulled the horse blanket back around him and started back to the quickly. Time seemed to drag on forever as he drove the carriage until he was on cobblestone streets. Arthur waited by the gate of the house until he saw Bernard come out with a lantern and walk out to the stables. Arthur took this as his cue and started the carriage forward up the drive.

"They're inside eating supper," said Bernard, "All of them. I don't think you'll mind if they are partaking in some of your finest wine, Master Kirkland. I said you were rewarding them all for being such good employees."

"A little reward every now and again keeps morale up," said Arthur as he hopped off the perch, "As it does give me plenty of time to do what I need to. Good food and fine wine like that and it's almost a guarantee that they'll take their time eating and enjoying such rewards."

"You're filthy," Bernard chided, "And that horse blanket, I am certain, is making you itch terribly."

"I feel feverish," said Arthur as he put the blanket up. He immediately shivered until his teeth rattled and he could barely walk. Bernard put his own coat on Arthur's shoulders and looked into the carriage. Bernard pulled the shovel out and checked the seats. "The upholstery is black," said Arthur, "I doubt anyone will notice if blood is on them."

"Indeed," said Bernard, "But I'll come back to it tomorrow when the stable is cleared of the hands to get some of that out in any case." He put the shovel away and then ushered Arthur in through the side door and up the stairs. Arthur then heard the maids and other servants coming out from the dining room to go about putting things back in their places before they left for home. Luck had been on Arthur's side, though now he was paying for it with the fever he could feel heating his body up and making him shake uncontrollably in Bernard's arms.

Bernard helped undress Arthur and then helped him to wash the dirt and blood away from his body in wash tub that Bernard had pulled into the room. That was fine enough to Arthur, though the cold of the water didn't help his shaking and shivering. Arthur didn't want to get into the bathtub. He didn't want to see that body still lying there with her insides open to the world. He didn't want to smell the blood and the feces. He didn't want to remember how slick it all had been. The very thoughts going through his head made him even sicker than he was already.

Bernard had spent the time cleaning the bathroom and straightening Arthur's room by himself. It was a wonder the man still had the strength to help Arthur out, given that Bernard was getting on in years. Arthur's room didn't even look like it had been ransacked like it had before. There were still foot prints in the carpet, however. They were bigger than Arthur's feet, though Arthur was rather short in comparison to most young men. His trunks were put back into their places according to which century they belonged to. His wardrobe was back in order. His windows were shut and the curtains were drawn.

Bernard set down a lamp for Arthur and nodded to him. "Sleep, sir. You need it."

Arthur nodded and got into the bed slowly, checking to see if there were any other surprises. When he found nothing he tucked himself in and settled back, though his skin burned terribly and the covers did not help him at all. "Bring me some water and a clean cloth for my head, Bernard."

"Yes, sir," said Bernard.

_

* * *

Arthur smiled when he saw Aashiyana. She stood in a light garment, not as fancy as the things he had seen her wear. She had petals in her long hair, which was unfurled from its braid and fell down past her waist. She looked as though she just came back from one of her "continentals", her walkabouts where she left to go enjoy her countryside instead of staying cooped up in her home and the city. Arthur had heard of her talking about them, but had thankfully never had so bad a luck as to arrive in India when India herself was not there at all._

_ "You look as lovely as ever, Aashiyana," said Arthur, smiling warmly. He touched her cheek and stroked her smooth, warm skin. She nuzzled into his touch, more willing than he had seen of her in a long time. "I've missed you so much," he whispered as tears started to fall from his eyes. "I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to come over and haven't been able to."_

_ "You are here now, Arthur, and that is all that matters__," said Aashiyana. She took his hand in her and held it firmly in her hand as though to tell him that it was all right; he didn't need to feel alone anymore._

_ Out of no where he heard the laugh. It was a laugh like that of the devil. Aashiyana's hand was ripped from his so fast he couldn't get a second hold on her. He watched as a man cloaked in shadow pulled her away from him. Arthur found himself shackled, his neck in a collar, his hands held to a wall with steel cuffs. He was locked into place and unable to move. The man chuckled as he held Aashiyana immobile. _

_ "Get the fuck away from her!" he shouted._

_ The man laughed. "Do you think I would give up such a prize as this, Sir Arthur?"_

_ Arthur's eyes widened in fear as he trembled horribly; why did he know him? Who was this man? How could he have followed him all the way to India? "Who are you?"_

_ "You know who I am, boss," said the all too jovial tone of the shadowy man. _

_ "YOU LET GO OF HER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Arthur snarled and bucked and fought against his restraints, but he couldn't do anything to budge them. _

_ "Tsk tsk, boss, that's not how you get things done," said the man. He chuckled and Arthur saw those eyes. They were bright green, brighter than most, but still not as bright and unnaturally colored as Arthur's. The man touched Aashiyana's cheek with the blade in his hand. "What would be more disturbing to you, I wonder," he said softly, "To see your girl completely mangled? Oh yes, that is disturbing. To see your whore treated as a whore should be treated… now that's an even better idea."_

_ Aashiyana tried to fight, but the man shoved her on her face and held her in place as he stabbed her in the shoulder, pinning her to whatever ground there was and ripped her clothes away. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER! GET AWAY FROM HER! YOU BASTARD! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! GET AWAY FROM HER!" The sounds of her screams shook Arthur to the core. He looked away. He couldn't watch, but the sounds were enough to break him inside. He tugged and tugged at the restraints, but he couldn't do anything. He shouted to drown them out, but it did no good. And then, when it was all over, the man stood up and chuckled that devil's laugh._

_ "She's a warm little bitch, isn't she, boss?" said the murderer. "Don't worry, she'll be even more beautiful and she won't feel anything anymore, just like you pay for her to be." He grabbed Aashiyana by her hair and pulled her up off the floor as she tried to claw him away from her. The knife sliced her throat too easily. It was as though she were made of nothing but paper. Her blood poured down over her from as she jerked and choked on her own blood. Arthur stared in horror as the man dropped her and then ripped her open from her neck down. He watched as the madman cut out her body parts and placed them around her like some bizarre, disturbing, disgusting piece of artwork before he turned her face toward Arthur. Her eyes were dead, the green around her pupils as lifeless as the rest of her black eyes. _

_ And then she smiled._

* * *

Arthur screamed and fell out of bed. He scrambled for any place he could as tears streamed down his cheeks. When he ran into the wall nearest to his bed, he curled up on the floor and hid his face in his knees, covering his head with his arms as he sobbed uncontrollably. At some point he felt hands grasp a hold of his hot, feverish body and pull him back into bed, but Arthur wasn't sure nor did he care who. The cold, wet cloth on his neck didn't stay cold for very long. It didn't even stay cool. It warmed up too quickly in minutes and had to be turned over.

Bernard sighed and tried to calm Arthur down, but it was pretty useless. Arthur was a total wreck thanks to the fever. Whatever he had seen in his dreams had made him so. Until he was well again, Bernard was certain he would have to keep coming in to calm Arthur down from whatever nightmares plagued him. With that, Bernard kept a routine of coming in to check Arthur instead of letting one of the maids do the honors. Who knew what would happen if one caught him during one of these nightmarish episodes?


	11. Chapter Eleven

_A/N: been on an Eclipse kick. I said it was more boring than New Moon. I take it back. This one's more infuriating than New Moon ever thought of being. Oh ho, but I've got Breaking Dawn to do as well. I'm sure I'm going to be so cheerful doing that mess._

_I have World War Z and it's awesome._

_Chapter Eleven_

_ Aashiyana helped Arthur get into her room and helped him sit down on the bed with only a minimal amount of his stumbling. When he was set on the bed well enough, she then left him to go to her vanity where she began to take off her jewels. Arthur watched her a long moment appreciatively of the sight before him. Her long, black hair was pulled into a braid that was generally pulled over her shoulder. Her saari was especially rich in its embroidery. She was a sight, even if all she was doing was taking off jewelry._

_ "I'm sorry I was so cruel before," he said softly, lying back on the bed._

_ "Cruel?" _

_ "For scaring you," said Arthur, "For acting like a jealous wanker."_

_ Aashiyana chuckled a little and turned back to her vanity. When she spoke, her voice was very soft. "_I'm still afraid of you_," she said in Hindi. Arthur watched her reflection, her face going from the gentle smile she carried oftentimes to one of fear. Then, she shook her head and smiled again. "No," she said in English, "Not afraid of Arthur. I'm afraid of the Empire." She sighed and took her earrings off so he wouldn't see her face in the mirror. "The East India Trading Company was harsh enough. Being under your control completely…it's a very frightening prospect."_

_ Arthur watched her with a gentle gaze as she continued to take off her earrings and then her elaborate necklace, setting them down on the vanity. He smiled just a little at her as he said, "I think Her Majesty has it out to demolish Alfred… or, to be more exact, wouldn't mind if America did fall and become a part of the Empire again. Maybe not even that. She's not fool enough to try to do anything outwardly to hurt America."_

_ "He would not be brought down so easily," said Aashiyana with a small smile. _

_ "That's why I said she isn't fool enough to do that," said Arthur, "Alfred is… very strong willed." As he spoke, Aashiyana shrugged out of her saari, her lovely back revealed to him and almost making him stop talking to appreciate it. "He doesn't lose his temper easily. When he finally does lose his temper he is at his hardest to reason with much less stop."_

_ Most of Aashiyana's weight had been gained back, though she was still a lot thinner than he would have liked. Unfortunately, he could also see that the corset that he gave her bruised her ribs. He could see the faint dark marks on her skin. She ran her hands over her sides and rubbed the sore spots on her body with a faint look of pain on her face. _

_ "Come over here," said Arthur, "Please." She looked over her shoulder at him; her arm hid the swell of her breast from his gaze. She was an alluring sight no matter what she did. However, for the moment, he just wanted to make her comfortable and not be interested in the beauty of her body. She walked over, still in her petticoat, and sat down on the bed beside him. Arthur sat up slowly and kissed the sore places gingerly; his cheeks heating up just a little as he kissed one bruise after another. He brought one of his hands up and rubbed her back with a softness he didn't use often. He sat up entirely and trailed his fingers over her sides as he nuzzled into her back and kissed her at the nape of her neck. _

_ Aashiyana was biting her lip and looked in pain whenever he touched the bruising. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her shoulder. "I know the corset must hurt you. You do not have to wear it."_

_ "I do if I am to go out with you in society," said Aashiyana softly. The very memory of Victoria giving Aashiyana that directive made him wince. Aashiyana noticed. "What's wrong?"_

_ "Nothing," said Arthur, sighing, "You are right. If you are to go out in society with me you have to wear the corset and gowns."_

_ "Then, why wince?" asked Aashiyana._

_ "I don't like the idea of you in pain," he said softly. Her cheeks flushed faintly at his concern for her. When she looked away from him, he rubbed her back and shoulders to ease some of her tension. Her muscles were like rock after her ordeal and worsened by the corset. Every now and then he would kiss the back of her neck. She slowly loosened up and moaned softly; slowly she began to arch at his touch like a great big cat. He nuzzled into her hair; his fingers glided over her spine. She writhed a little at his touches. She arched and breathed just a little heavier at the gentle kisses he pressed to her neck. She was being rather unusually submissive and responsive to him._

_ "Rani," he whispered into her ear. She made a small, breathy noise that made his heart thump quicker in his chest. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin was growing warm under his fingers; she was beautiful beyond all else. He leaned into her ear and nuzzled into her neck and cheek. She chuckled a little, wiggling a bit from him; a bit ticklish. He smiled a little and kissed her ear. Again, she made that small, breathy noise. That was right; she liked her ears kissed a great deal. Taking advantage of this knowledge, he gently kissed her ear and just under it. She turned at that and kissed him slowly, softly, as though not to injure his head further as she wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself a bit closer to him._

_ He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer against him, her fingers curling in his wild hair. When she pulled back, she breathed warm breath on his lips. He gazed at her a long moment with hot, green eyes. "Make love to me, Arthur," she said softly. He kissed her again, opening her mouth to him and groaning low into her mouth as he ran his tongue against hers languidly. He lay back with her on top of him, his injured head on a pillow to keep from hurting himself more, and ran his fingers over her sides to her hips. Slowly, softly, the barest suggestion of movement, she moved her hips against him. He rolled his hips into her in response and elicited a small smile upon her lips. _

_ Aashiyana pulled Arthur close to her and then rolled until he was on top of her. He carefully positioned himself so he wouldn't hurt her ribs and watched as that smile of hers grew, her black and green eyes growing warmer and warmer with each touch they shared. He pressed gentle kisses to her ear, her neck, and her collar bones to her shoulder. He kept moving down as she soft, approving sighs at his ministrations until he reached her breasts where he nuzzled against the soft skin and teased one of her nipples with his mouth. She moaned then, a soft noise that made Arthur's blood warm that much more. Her fingers curled into his hair again as she arched her back to press her breast further against his mouth. He suckled at the peak and flicked his tongue at it while he rubbed and teased the other breast with his hand so as to not leave either unattended. He switched breasts and pushed his now freed hand under her where he rubbed her spine in little circles, though the noise he got from her was a small chuckle._

_ He nuzzled into her stomach gently and spoke in Hindi, the sounds rolling off that tongue of his in almost a purr. "_I am amusing you, I see, my Rani_."_

_ "_Not amusing_," said Aashiyana, "_It is so rare that I see you being so careful with me like this._"_

_ Arthur lifted himself up onto his elbows and gazed at her warmly. "_I do only as Aashiyana bids me to._" What he said seemed to surprise her. She went silent and that smile faded as her black and green eyes widened slightly. She had not expected him to say such a thing at all. Then, slowly, her gaze grew warmer and loving; her cheeks darkened considerably. Arthur moved up her body and then kissed her forehead. "_If she bids me to be harder, faster, for her enjoyment, then I will do as she asks me to. If she demands I be gentle and soft, then I will be as equally accommodating for her pleasure._" She put her fingers to his lips a moment and he kissed them gently as he watched her with that heated gaze of his. "_Ilove seeing you happy_."_

_ Her fingers moved to his cheek. He kissed her palm and then pressed her hand to his hot cheek as he closed his eyes, pain registering in his face. "When you left," he said in English, "I was beside myself. I was also landed with a guilty conscience to where I was willing to let you do anything you wanted, even if it was another man entirely, even Alfred, so long as you were safe from harm."_

_ "The offer still stands, Raja," said Aashiyana and then she added in Hindi, "_Ask me to be yours_."_

_ Arthur's heart thumped hard in his chest as he looked at her longingly. "_Be mine alone, my Rani._" Then, he leaned down and kissed her soundly. _

_ "Yes, Arthur," said Aashiyana in English, "I will." She returned his kisses with equal pressure, equal passion as his flared to life. He kissed her slowly, his tongue moving against her with every ounce of passion he could put into just that activity alone while still remaining as gentle as he could. He didn't want to bruise her, but he didn't want to be distant from her either. Aashiyana, not to be outdone, gave as much passion as he did, perhaps even more than him. He rolled his hips into hers and was gratified to hear a low moan from her as he suckled at her earlobe and nipped the sensitive skin beneath it. She arched and writhed for him, her hips moving up to meet his. When his movements became too quick and hard for her, when he felt her wince and heard her cry out in pain from the stress he was putting on her ribs, he stopped quickly and lifted himself away from her a little to make certain she was all right._

_ "I'm sorry," he said softly. _

_ Aashiyana moved herself up against the pillows and looked at him with just a hint of amusement. "For what?"_

_ "I am attempting to not irritate your ribs further," said Arthur, eyeing her smile with some annoyance, "I don't seem to be accomplishing that very well."_

_ "Well," said Aashiyana, her fingers running over his chest slowly, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it away from his hot skin, "What is your goal?"_

_ "To make love to you," said Arthur, keeping his gaze locked on hers._

_ "Then, do that," said Aashiyana, smiling a little at him, "I am not made of glass."_

_ Arthur leaned closer to her until his lips brushed against hers. When he opened his eyes, they were looking into her intensely. "Sometimes, I worry that you are." He smirked, then, almost grinning like the pirate she knew lurked beneath that gentlemanly surface. "But then, I remember you are most definitely not made of glass."_

_ He kissed her again and settled into her as she pulled him down to her. He slid his fingers into her hair and rubbed his thumb against her ear slowly. She moaned again and cursed inwardly that he took advantage of such a sensitive spot on her. He chuckled at her. "I find a weakness, I exploit it," he said, "I am a pirate after all." Then, he nuzzled into her throat and nipped her skin. _

_ She chuckled softly. "You wicked man."_

_ He continued down her body, nuzzling, nipping, swirling his tongue on her skin while she relieved him of his shirt. He tossed the shirt when it got in the way and nuzzled and licked his way further over her stomach to her hip as he pulled her petticoat off of her. Gracefully, as though she really weren't actually real, she moved out of the petticoat and smiled at him as he kissed her knee and her inner thigh. He felt her fingers in his hair as he suckled at the sensitive skin there and reveled in the loud moan as he pumped her with his fingers. She was hot and gripping him already. _

_ Arthur grinned at her against her thigh and moved down until he was using his tongue to please her. She moaned loudly and arched, she writhed and gripped his hair; she reveled in everything he gave her. "Arthur—ah—what about you?" she gasped._

_ He moved his mouth from her and kissed her stomach slowly with a low noise from his throat. He pushed his suspenders off and then his trousers, his undershorts and stockings soon with them and ran his tongue up between her breasts as he moved up her body. She moved down further on the bed to lay on her back as he moved over her and settled between her legs. Slowly, he entered her, his lips finding hers and his tongue teasing hers in a slow rhythm he reflected in his hips as he slowly thrust into her. She rolled her hips up to meet his motions, moaning softly with each movement. Arthur, to his credit, kept his movements as smooth as possible so he would not irritate her ribs or any other bruising she had. _

_ He quickened his pace slowly and suckled at her neck, bringing up little marks on her lovely skin that was a much deeper tone than his. His tongue swirled against the veins in her throat, eliciting a moan from her that sent shivers down Arthur's spine. "Is it to… your satisfaction…my Rani?" he asked, panting softly against her ear. She gasped and let her head lean back, smiling. Then, she nodded to him, lost for words as little shivers ran down her spine. Arthur could feel it in her, the pleasure he gave her. In a way, he was certain there could be no possible way that two people could be more intimate than he and Aashiyana. _

_ He thrust quicker into her as he closed his eyes and reveled in the feelings they brought up between one another. He looked down at her, the grin spreading across her face, her black and green eyes molten. "Do you… enjoy me, Arthur?" she asked, panting heavily as she held his face in her hands. She was enjoying the overwhelmed look upon his face, the look of contentment etched into his features, the beautiful look of arousal in his green eyes._

_ Arthur leaned down and kissed her more fervently than before, growling low in his throat. "You… you know the answer already," he gasped._

_ Aashiyana moaned loudly and arched against him. "_Please, I want… to hear it_," she said in Hindi. It took Arthur a long moment to even remember enough Hindi to figure out what she said._

_ He thrust quicker into her, his breathing quick and heavy, as he held her tight against him with his arms securely around her. Every single thing muddled inside his head better than the best scotch. "I love you!" he gasped. He felt her stiffen slightly in surprise, saw her wince a little at how tight he held her and had to force himself away from her to keep from hurting her further. However, Aashiyana had other things in mind and pulled him back down on top of her again. _

_ "My ribs be damned," she whispered quickly in his ear, "I want more of you!"_

_ Arthur kissed her, growling softly into her mouth as he increased the pace of his hips. She clutched at him, nails digging into his back. He felt her arch and writhe against him until she cried out loudly, her body gripping and convulsing around him quickly. She trembled beneath him gently as she held herself tightly against him as he let out a shout and spilled himself inside her. Slowly, so slowly, they eased together into the bed; the euphoria was wonderful, more wonderful than the other times he had been abed with her. Perhaps it was because he had let his feelings be known to her. Perhaps it was because he opened himself more to what she felt as well to increase that wonderful intimacy. Either way, they held each other in the bed as their bodies slowly cooled and their breathing began to slow._

_ "I love you," she whispered, smiling. The ring of green was more vibrant than it was before. Arthur's cheeks flushed a bit more, then he smiled very slowly at her. Gently, he kissed her, his thick eyebrows furrowing. _

_ "I love you, as well, Aashiyana," he whispered. Aashiyana made a small noise of discomfort and he moved a bit away from her to look. She rubbed her ribs slowly and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said as he touched her ribs gingerly as well. Aashiyana chuckled a little and pushed him away from her onto his side and then curled against him to keep warm. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as he kissed the top of her head. His own head was pounding a bit as the afterglow began to wear off and it made him drowsy. _

_ "Sleep," she said softly._

_ Arthur smiled a little and nuzzled against her, speaking softly, "If you command me to do so…" _

* * *

Arthur woke slowly. He rolled his eyes to the window slowly and noticed it was open and a stiff breeze brought in cold air into his room. He looked around, thinking perhaps Aashiyana would be there, at the vanity, putting on her khol around her eyes or perhaps dressing her hair, but he found no one. He found nothing in his room except himself lying in bed. How many days was it? How long had it been since little Anne had to be buried away from the city? How many days was it since he had come up and found her there in his bathroom in a tub filled with her blood? Why had Jack picked him for such an "honor"?

Because Arthur wasn't a constable. Arthur wasn't a detective or even a reporter. Arthur was the Queen's man and, more importantly, he was England itself. He was unusual in the sea of usual. He was worthy of notice and, with a man who clearly was above the intelligence of the average murderer or pick pocket, worthy of watching to see just what he did. Perhaps Jack only thought him to be a collector, which was not unusual among the upper class. Perhaps Jack only thought him the Queen's man and nothing else. Yes, that seemed more likely. It was difficult to get most people understand the almost impossible to understand anyway, so it was more likely that Jack the Ripper had no idea just exactly what was living inside that house.

Arthur found everything in order when he came down finally from his room. Bernard had taken it upon himself to make certain that there were no family members of Anne's to come looking for her. The poor girl had been alone, it seemed. Arthur found that to be a blessing. That meant there would be no people coming to find out where she had disappeared to or blame him. The other maids had no idea what had happened and took the lie that Anne had gone away to the north where Arthur knew of a nice fellow that would take care of her. The stable hands didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary in the carriage.

Arthur jumped slightly when he heard a knock at the door and started to go back up the stairs to find something to calm him down. Bernard came out and answered the door quickly without looking to Arthur. At the door was Abberline, his bowler hat cocked slightly on his head. He had a cigarette in his mouth and took it out to blow smoke from his nostrils slowly. "Sir Arthur lives here, yes?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, this is Master Kirkland's residence," said Bernard. "And you are?"

"Inspector Frederick Abberline," said Abberline as he crushed his cigarette on the sole of his shoe. "May I come in?"

"Certainly, sir," said Bernard as he stepped aside. "Shall I take your hat and coat, then?"

"Thank you," said Abberline. He handed Bernard his coat and hat and then looked immediately around the room until his eyes landed on Arthur. "Sir Arthur, I see you're looking a little better."

Bernard put the hat and coat on a hat stand and went about his duties, though kept relatively near and out of sight. Arthur nodded and walked down the rest of the way to the floor, walking over to Abberline as he looked around the room. Abberline reached up and touched the butt of the revolutionary war musket he kept on the wall as decoration. "You keep antiques?"

"Yes, it's a bit of a hobby of mine," said Arthur, "My mother did similar." Abberline nodded and backed away from the musket, sticking his hands into his pockets. Arthur eyed him a long moment before he spoke again. "Is there a reason you're here, Inspector Abberline?"

"Have you been missing a servant?" he asked. "A driver, perhaps?"

"Mr. Farrow, yes. We couldn't find him at his house when we went to look for him." Arthur eyed Abberline as Abberline looked off at the antiques once more. He toyed with the idea of telling Abberline of Mr. Ross, but kept it to himself. He would decide later if he should give that information to Abberline or not. No—No, it was a far better idea to tell him of Mr. Ross so he would know why they were looking for Mr. Farrow, but he had to leave out the details of Anne.

"And why was it you had been looking for him?" asked Abberline.

"I had a replacement driver," said Arthur, "By the name of Mr. Ross who drove me about, only he left me in the East End instead of taking me to the palace where I could meet with Her Majesty like I was supposed to do. I didn't know why he left me out in the East End, but I drove the carriage back by myself and found my room ransacked and Mr. Ross had disappeared entirely. Even my butler had thought Mr. Farrow had been my driver."

Abberline eyed him for a long moment before he spoke. "Ransacked, you say?"

"As if looking for something important about me, who I am or what my profession is," said Arthur.

"Jack."

"Remember when we speculated that he had fixated on me in particular because I wasn't one of the inspectors or reporters or even part of the Vigilance Committee?" asked Arthur.

"What would he find out about you?" asked Abberline.

"I am the Queen's man," said Arthur, "I work very closely with her and parliament. I'm silent in everything and vocal of what I see. I can't explain much more than that as you wouldn't believe me if I said so, but there is no doubt he will have found that out from my own room. I don't throw anything away."

"As I can see," said Abberline as he motioned toward the antiques.

"You haven't seen what I inherited from my mother, I bet," said Arthur, "Most of it is in a museum where it can be better taken care of."

"Prominent woman, was she?" asked Abberline as he sat down in the sitting room, noting the toy soldiers out on display. "I mean your mother."

"Yes, she was," said Arthur, "Though I barely remember her at all. My brothers could give you a better detailing of her. She died while I was still young and I was raised by my brothers mostly." And one very annoying French boy, though Inspector Abberline didn't need to know that.

"Brothers?"

"I have one that lives in Wales, one that lives in Ireland and one that lives in Scotland. The one in Scotland is the oldest, the one in Ireland is the second oldest, and the one in Wales is the third oldest," said Arthur.

Abberline nodded. "And why have I never heard of Mrs. Kirkland?"

"Because she chose to not be known," said Arthur, "Just as I choose to not be known as do my brothers. We're all very private individuals and prefer keeping to ourselves and avoiding the limelight."

"Such a secret life is bound to look suspicious to someone interested in you," said Abberline. Arthur watched him a long moment, noting how Abberline seemed to keep his feelings as neutral as possible. Abberline clearly felt the precaution of keeping himself steady in Arthur's presence was necessary to keep Arthur from picking up on anything in particular. Smart man indeed.

Arthur fiddled with the gold bangle he began to keep on him for good luck inside his pocket. Abberline raised a dark eyebrow at him with a questioning look on his face until Arthur pulled it out to show him. "Indian?" he asked.

"It belongs to someone else," said Arthur, "Though she is thankfully not here." Arthur avoided the imagery of Aashiyana being violated and ripped apart by Jack inside his mind as much as he possibly could. Even still her smile still came to him and he shoved the bangle back in his pocket to dull the pain it brought up.

"Someone close, I take it," asked Abberline.

Arthur laughed a little. "My private life is not for your ears, sir, and I will thank you for not prying into it." His tone came out much more sharply than he had intended, but the effect was achieved. Abberline nodded and retreated from questioning further into it. For a moment, the pain in his heart, the ache of Aashiyana's absence, subsided and he returned to relative normality in his behavior.

"Inspector Abberline," Arthur asked when things grew silent, "What has happened to Mr. Farrow? You came to inquire into that and I will assume that you have found him, for I can't feel anything from you at this moment."

"We found Mr. Farrow not far from here with his throat cut," said Abberline in a very unemotional tone, "He had been dead several days before he was dumped there and we asked his wife about his employer and look who should be his employer but Mr. Mysterious himself." Abberline leaned back in his chair and eyed Arthur. "If he's fixated on you, then you should probably pull out of this and hide away."

"Her Majesty's orders are quite clear," said Arthur, "I am to assist you at whatever cost to make sure this brigand is brought to justice. Unfortunately, I think she may think my particular talents are miraculous rather than minimal."

"Hmm." Abberline stood up after a moment of thinking and put his hands back in his pockets. "I think you should stay here and don't go out unless you absolutely need to. Keep close to home until we find this madman."

"He already knows where I live, I should think that if I stay in one place he can better observe me rather than going to great efforts as he has been to follow me and search me out," Arthur snapped.

"Pardon my rudeness, then," said Abberline.

Arthur walked with Abberline to the door silently and watched as the man walked off down the drive to the gate where he walked away from the house entirely. Arthur closed the door and leaned his head on it, sighing softly. This was not going easily and the Queen was expecting results quickly. How could they catch him when they couldn't even find a clue as to who he was? Arthur couldn't have given a description of Mr. Ross, because Mr. Ross's face was almost totally obscured from his vision by that damnable hat he wore. The only feature he could find any prominence in were those eerie eyes that so resembled Arthur's own eyes.

With that, Arthur went back up to his room and attempted to calm his nerves with some absinthe and his door locked.


End file.
